Loves Dirty Little Angel
by Hartabound
Summary: All she'd ever needed was one night to feel something, and now all he wants is a second chance. But since Marie's not all that forgiving and Logan's too proud to beg...' Strictly one for the over 18's only ppl.
1. All Night Long

_A/N: Yes another new story from me, but I do promise to update the other's soon...or maybe soon enough. LOL_**  
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* * *

**Part 1- 'All Night Long…'**

They say it's not the fucked up things in life that should have you worried, it's when the fucked up things start making sense that you should be worried.

Guess Logan should have been pretty worried when the sight of her long legs making their way across the dirty bar floor had him turned on in an instant, he was distracted enough by the sudden tension in his entire body to miss the punch the ox opposite him threw, he rolled with it and the hit barely registered.

It was brawl night at the bar and Logan was only part way through his nightly ritual, get drunk, fuck and fight. With his healing factor because getting drunk proved a bitch, he took extra pleasure in the rest.

He should have known they'd end up in the same place sometime or other. He was as much in her head as she was in his. He watched her intently as she hitched up her shirt above her waist and tied it into a knot just above her stomach, the skirt is pulled just a little lower, and she takes the band out of her hair shaking the ponytail loose.

Logan took a long drag from his beer, watching all the time, willing she'd turn around and look at him and at the same hoping to God she didn't, she freezes, the sensation of eyes boring into her back registering at last, she turned to look directly at him. The white bangs of her hair fall across her eyes and she almost drops the tray of drinks she's holding.

There's a fine sheen of sweat over the top half of his naked body, it ran down his chest, moving gently over the ripples of his stomach, showing each muscle off beautifully. Her eyes took in every inch of him, from his mussed up hair, his hand entwined in the wires of the cage to his bare feet, then her eyes fleet for the briefest second to the spot behind him before she smiled slightly and turned to walk away.

Logan's grip on the steel wire cage tightens and he grits his teeth, dammit girl, ya know I hate it when you walk away from me. Except the times when I pushed you away, yeah you got a right to be pissed, but what the hell are you doin' here, in a shit-hole like this?

And he knew why she'd smiled, but he'd heard the guy coming a mile away there was no way he was gonna be caught off guard again, Logan put him down with a swift punch to the gut and another to the face, before picking up his drink and walking out the cage to the sound of being declared a winner and the jeers of the audience.

A half hour later he was propping up the bar, cigar in one hand beer in the other watching her as she moved through the crowd. Strange how they'd ended up the same way, finding her in a bar after a fight, but it was different this time, a year after the cure, months since she'd left the academy and days in between trying to convince himself that he hadn't missed her.

Truth was he'd long felt something for her, when he'd first seen her as a scared mutant kid, to their last minutes together that night she'd approached him and given him one last chance to do something about it.

But he'd fucked that up, just like he fucked up everything that mattered, he hadn't needed the hassle, he was a walking train wreck when she'd met him and worse by the time she'd packed her bags five months ago.

He'd told her they'd both do so much better if she walked away, she'd feel so much better, managed to convince her and himself that he'd loved Jean, and for a while he hadn't felt such a piece of crap 'cause he'd done the right thing.

Transferring all his attention to Jean had been so much easier; she was the right age, the right side of sane and enough together for both of them. He'd needed that, something normal, something simple. And apart from the fact Jean had pretty much shot him down every time he'd approached her and aside from Scooter, it had felt pretty normal.

And then even that had been shot to shit, the Professor was dead, Scooter was dead and Jean…he'd killed Jean. Marie left soon after that, packed her bags and left in the middle of the night, he'd watched her close the gate behind her and couldn't deny the fact that he was just a little bit glad thinking maybe she'd gone for good.

No more complications for him, he'd done the right thing, turning her down, pushing her away, telling her he didn't need this, and to just forget 'bout it, 'cause it wasn't gonna happen.

But he'd been lying and she knew it, a damn coward she'd called him, making sure he knew that if she left now it was forever.

Now here she was the cure giving her the freedom to show off as much skin as she liked and too much for Logan's liking. He'd seen the ways the guys in this place leered at her, he'd seen the way she reacted to it, knowing all the while it pissed him off all the more.

* * *

Marie knew his eyes followed her around the room, took in every inch of her as she bent and leaned, and she hoped the bastard got off on it 'cause that's all he was gonna get. Just look Logan, 'cause believe me there ain't no way in hell you're gonna get to touch.

She'd convinced herself that she'd forgotten about the Academy and more importantly that she'd forgotten all about Logan. She had felt so much better; walking out of those gates, convinced that she wasn't wrong and pretty soon he'd miss her like crazy. And when he did she'd be long gone, and forever just like she'd promised him.

If Logan hadn't wanted her, and the Academy no longer needed her, she wasn't gonna stick around, that world wasn't hers anymore, she'd forget about that life and go somewhere they would want her. It was gonna be so much better, and she'd be glad she'd disappeared.

And that's how she'd ended up here, at Starkey's a remote bar the far end of the Canadian border, she'd never thought he'd turn up here as well, he hadn't come looking for her, she knew it was all a matter of coincidence…damn coincidence.

Marie didn't need this and she sure as hell didn't need him, so she served her drinks and flirted with the customers knowing just how much it was churning him up. '_Fuck you Logan…'_

* * *

Logan ordered another beer; draining more than half of it one cool drag, the barman clearly impressed hovered by Logan's end of the bar pretending to clean glasses but actually waiting to see when this guy would drop. He'd seen enough heavy drinkers prop up the bar, but the last time he'd seen someone drink as much as Logan, he'd seen them carried off in an ambulance. An ambulance he had called.

'Hey…' Logan called out to him, 'how long has she been here?' he nodded over to Marie's direction.

'Marie? Not long, coupla months, sweet kid just not the most reliable girl; this is the first I've seen of her in over three days.'

Logan's eyes narrowed and he looked back towards Marie, closer this time, 'Three days? But she's still here.'

The barman shrugged, 'anyone else and the boss'd have fired their ass by now, but she's turned out to be the best thing for this place.'

'How's that?' Logan was still looking at her, still wondering.

'Look at her, half the guys in this place just keep comin' in on the off-chance she's working, she'd take most of them in a fight and the rest she'd drink under the table, plus come on man…she's got that killer rack.'

He trailed off at that, seeing the way Logan had turned to look at him he'd clearly crossed the line, and he'd seen the way Logan fought, he went back to cleaning his glasses at the other end of the bar.

* * *

She'd changed, couple months ago she'd never have the guts to dress the way she was now, knee-high black go-go boots, short skirt, and a shirt deliberately hitched up. And she'd cut her hair, it was shorter now, falling to just above her shoulders, she had kept the white bangs, for some reason she'd decided against cutting them out.

And over the last few months she'd felt so much better than she'd ever done, so much more alive. She smiled slyly to herself as she served drinks to a bunch of roughnecks. This was her sort of crowd; yeah she liked the quiet ones, the ones just glad to be served, who tipped extra glad to be served by a pretty face.

But the bunch of guys sat around the table she was now serving had paunch bellies, greasy shirts and god-awful trucker hats, and more often than not they turned out to be mean drunks. Good enough for her, her sort of people, lonely, fucked-up and pissed off at the world.

It was then that she felt a hand on her inner leg, it snaked upwards, past her knee and heading for her thigh, coolly placing the last bottle on the table she grabbed the hand and pushed it away.

She looked at the guy with a sweet smile, he sniggered at her, leaning close she spoke low and quiet, 'Look mister keep ya hand to yerself, or you're gonna lose it.' She warned him, but he still laughed and instead of doing as he was told shoved his hand right up her skirt.

Marie sighed and tilted her head to one side, holding the drinks tray in one hand she smacked square in the face with it, she put all her weight behind that and was rewarded with a satisfying crunch as she broke his nose. He fell backwards clutching his face, she placed her heeled boot in the hollow of his throat and pressed down choking him.

Taking his arm she twisted in one direction and grabbing the hand he had touched her with twisted in the opposite direction; she used her leg on his neck as leverage and bent the hand backwards above the wrist, until that inevitable snap.

* * *

Logan heard the screaming pretty much as soon as everyone else in the bar did, he saw Marie, his little Marie take down a man more than twice her size and he couldn't help but be proud, he smiled slyly to himself, he'd taught her that move. Glad to see she hadn't forgotten everything.

'That happen a lot?' He asked the young barman; whose name he had since learned was Joe. He was still cleaning his glasses, watching Marie as she dusted herself down and went back to collecting empty glasses.

'Marie can handle herself, like I said she could take half the guys here, everyone knows you don't touch Marie unless she wants you to.' It seemed like a warning he had issued before.

Logan shook his head, damn right, nobody touches Marie. 'Ya know she's underage right?'

Joe looked at him suspiciously, he leaned close, 'Hey she didn't say and we didn't ask, that's the way things work around here, not a cop are you?'

Logan threw him a look as if to say, do I look like a cop?

And then Logan saw something that was a punch to the guts. He saw Marie walk over to a guy sat in the corner; she stood in front of him for a while before she leaned closer and whispered something in his ear.

His reaction was to pull her into his lap and Logan had half expected Marie to give him the same treatment she had offered the last asshole, but she didn't, she settled comfortably in his lap and pushing his hat back kissed him. More than that she began to move in his lap, grinding her hips against his groin, and rising up and down, doing her own little lap dance just for him.

They stood up like this, his hands under her ass holding her flush against his chest, before making their way towards the door and out the bar.

'That happens a lot too…' was all Joe got to say before Logan got up and followed Marie out.


	2. Some Of Us Find Salvation In Nothing

**Part 2-'Some Of Us Find Salvation In Nothing….'**

Logan followed them outside, the scent of Marie's arousal was thick in the air, all of his other senses faded, and he heard and saw nothing else. All he sensed was just how much Marie was anticipating fucking this man and the idea just about killed him.

He was still carrying her, she had her legs wrapped around his middle and they half stumbled and half staggered their way to the side of the building. It had started raining and as he pressed her against the cold brick wall Marie could feel her shirt sticking to her back.

His mouth was pressed firmly against hers, she could smell the beer on his breath, mixed with his aftershave and cigarettes, and she shivered slightly as he moved from her lips to her neck. Her quick fingers opened the buttons of her shirt and his hands found their way over her front kneading her breasts over her bra.

Marie moved her hands down further and found the clasp of his jeans, promptly releasing him she massaged him forcefully, running her hand down his length and over the tip, her cold hands against his warmth made them both groan. She smiled up into his darkened gaze before running her finger across her lips, tasting him.

She bit her lip and looked him square in the eye as she slowly reached underneath her skirt and removed her panties. He moaned and lifting her slightly gripped her by the hips as he buried himself deep inside her.

Marie gasped loudly as began to move inside her, enjoying every thrust. She held tightly onto his shoulders and breathed deeply into his hair, _'Come on baby, make me feel it…'_

She whispered in his ear, his response was to move harder and faster.

Thrust and push until that eventual release, harder and faster, she matched her movements with his and cried out digging her teeth into his neck. He stilled at last and she rested her head on his shoulder turning to look where she knew _he_ stood.

She looked directly at Logan before she smiled. _'Was it good for you too baby?'_

* * *

Logan sat unmoving an unopened bottle of whiskey in one hand and a glass in the other, it seemed he couldn't decide whether to drink or to throw it across the bar.

He eventually poured himself a large shot, asking for another glass he propped the empty glass next to his arm. He poured a drink for her and waited.

Joe queried the second glass but seeing the look on Logan's face didn't bother to ask questions.

'That happens a lot huh?' Logan spoke to him at last, and seeing the big man appear to be worked up into what was clearly one helluva temper, Joe tried to give him an answer.

He shrugged. 'Look, all the girls here do it, most of the guys that come in, well let's just say they aren't the last of the big spenders, mostly they're just pissing their paycheques away, and for most of these girls the tips just don't add up.'

He dared to lean in closer, 'But with Marie, I don't know what it is, I think it's all part of her ritual ya know?'

'What ritual?' Logan looked at him a dark look crossing his brow. Joe shook his head not entirely sure if he should keep talking. He tried his luck all the same.

'Ya know, get drunk, fuck and fight. She picks out a random guy, takes him out back and shows him a good time. And…' Joe sighed, 'sometimes she ends up taking their money as well.'

That shocked Logan, he gripped the glass tighter before swallowing the fiery liquid in one gulp, 'You're telling me she gets paid?'

Marie being paid for sex, like a common prostitute, a whore just like the kind he used. This was fucking unbelievable. Get drunk, fuck and fight, yeah he was in her head alright, maybe more than was right and helluva lot more than she deserved.

The guilt tore at him; he shook his head and poured himself another drink.

Joe looked at him closely, determined to make sure Logan didn't misunderstand him further, 'Nah man, I didn't say she got paid, I said she takes their money, as in she steals it.'

'And that's supposed to be better?' Logan asked him.

Joe shook his head, 'I dunno. But you seem more cut up about this than you should be, you know Marie or somethin'?

Logan turned to look at the girl walking back into the bar, saw her swing her hips, saw her push white bangs of hair away from her eyes, before looking up at Joe again, 'I thought I did.'

* * *

Marie eventually made her way back to the bar; taking a seat next to Logan she ignored the bottle of whiskey and glass and called out for Joe to give her a beer instead.

She reached down and into her boots taking out a handful of folded green notes. She handed one to Joe and smiled, 'Sorry Joe, looks like the guy was a cheap fuck.'

Logan looked over at her, her hair was matted to her face and her wet shirt clung to her curves, he could feel the tension tighten his body once more.

'Yeah, guess you get what you pay for sweetheart.'

She looked at him at last and laughed, 'Ouch, that's cold Logan. She turned in the chair to face him directly, 'so what are you paying for the pleasure these days huh?' Leaning closer, she smiled sexily at him, 'or maybe the blondes these days are just so happy to be riding Logan's dick they forget all 'bout the green stuff?'

Logan fixed her with a cold stare, 'that's crude darlin' even comin' from you.'

She laughed again and turned back to her drink, 'well no-one ever accused this Southern gal of havin' class.' Marie loved that she could get to him like this, he had cause for regret.

It hadn't been all that great, the sex in the back-alleys never was, usually when she picked them up and took them outside, they were pissed enough so they could barely stand they'd get so excited they'd end up shooting their load in their pants or as soon as she had got her hands on them.

It never lasted long, and it was never good, but Logan didn't need to know that. As far as he was concerned she still smelt like him, his fluid was still running down her legs and the rain had done nothing to mask the scent of their fucking.

Good, let him think that, let him torture himself with that, serve the bastard right, '_ah sure hope ya lose sleep tonight sugah.'_

'Ya should know Logan…' she spoke after a while.

'Know what?' He poured himself another glass and swivelled the liquid around and around.

'What it means to fuck without caring,' she spoke sharply, 'ya do it often enough, it's all 'bout the moment, nothing else, nothing matters, sex without a catch, ain't that right sugah?'

'_Sugah?' _She'd never called him that before, it pissed him off the way she sat there smiling, not caring. He took hold of her arm roughly and forced her to look at him.

'You're too young, Marie dammit, you're too young for this!'

She stared at him, 'too young for what Logan?'

He sighed, 'too young to think that this is all you deserve, for fuck's sake, you're only 18, still just a kid.'

She laughed and shook her, 'Ah'm 19 Logan, ah had a birthday last week,' she pulled her arm away from his grasp, ' but ah guess ya wouldn't know that.'

_Shit._ She had a birthday last week, he'd forgotten all about it, the three years he'd known her he'd never missed a birthday, but he'd missed last week's. She'd turned 19 and where had he been, in another state, another fight and with another blonde, she was right… fucking without caring, _he_ should know.

'Ah'm not too young Logan, ah grew up a long time ago Logan, not that any of you noticed, and ah don't need it anymore. Ah don't need to be held up, to be put together when ah fall apart. Maybe back at the academy ah needed that, but not anymore. If anything ah'm too old for this...'

She finished her beer with one clean swig and started to stand up, ready to leave. Logan reached for something in his jeans pocket, he fumbled a while before holding the object up. It spun and caught the light, dog tags, his dog tags, the ones he had given her so long ago.

He laid the chain carefully on the bar next to her beer bottle. 'You forgot somethin' when you left,' he stated quietly.

Marie stared at them a while before picking the tags up, she held them in her hand gently, and then she smiled, the same smile Logan remembered from so long ago, remembered the girl from so long ago.

She placed the tags back on the bar, 'Ah didn't forget them.'

'Then you left 'em behind.' Logan looked at her intently, _take them with you Marie, come on girl, give me somethin…_'

She shook her head, and standing close to Logan whispered in his ear, 'Ya take 'em sugah, ah don't need 'em anymore, and ah don't need _you_….' She walked away without a second look back.

And Logan was forced to remember when he had as much said the same to her.


	3. Long Time Dead

**Part 3- 'Long Time Dead…'**

_'I can't do this anymore, it's killin' me. I can't it hurts too much, this touch and every other touch is killin' me.'_

_She hadn't been able to sleep, for another night she couldn't sleep but tonight she hadn't even bothered trying. She'd spent the day in the city losing herself amongst people, just walking the streets, looking like them but feeling…feeling nothing._

_That's what's killing me._

_She'd got back to the academy late, scaled the wall, almost been caught out by the security system only to get to her room and find Bobby fucking on her bed, fucking sweet, innocent little Kitty. Only from the angle Marie was getting, she wasn't looking all that innocent, and Bobby certainly didn't look like he was gonna be complaining._

_They hadn't heard her open the door and she'd left them to it, without a word, without a scene, just closed the door and walked away._

_It was only later when she'd been sat on the academy building steps, when she'd heard his bike roar in, when he stood above her the scent of her cheap perfume still lingering on him that she got angry._

_How'd ya do it, how'd ya live with fuckin' and feelin' nothin'?_

* * *

_He'd almost walked past her, just another step and he'd have been home and dry, but he was kidding himself, he'd never be able to walk past her, not when she's looking like that, all lost._

_Add that to the fact that she's drinking his beer, the beer Storm insisted he hid in the back of the fridge, buried underneath all the healthy green stuff, 'cause if there's one thing teenagers won't go near it's the green stuff. He had to smile when she'd laid down that law, with all these powers these kids have and she was worried 'bout them becoming raging alcoholics?_

_Still, he sat down next to her realising at once that the tension in her was screaming out for release. The sensation unnerved him a little, thinking of Marie and release was not a good idea, not with her sat so close._

'_Hey kid, ah'm gonna pretend that ain't my beer you're drinkin'…' he states gruffly staring out across the lawn._

_Marie raised the glass and smiled at him, 'great, meanwhile ah'll pretend ah actually give a shit.'_

_He smiled and said nothing, simply rested back on the step and waited, she'd talk when she was good and ready._

_Marie turned to look at him at last, 'No need to ask how you're night went then, ah can still smell her on ya.' She said that with a snarl that got his attention. 'Wanna know what my day was like?' She didn't wait for him to reply. 'Ah'm gonna tell ya anyway.'_

_She took a quick swig of the beer, some of the liquid dribbling on her chin she brushed it away with the back of her hand, and Logan began to wonder how much she'd had._

'_Ah spent the whole day in the city, not that anyone here noticed ah was gone, kinda fade into the background these days. Got back to find my so-called boyfriend screwing another girl on my bed…' She sighed and emptying the bottle down her throat threw it across the lawn, it landed with a heavy thud on the freshly mowed grass._

_Logan wasn't sure he'd heard right, Bobby was what? He clenched his fists and growled fiercely. He looked closely at her, oddly she was smiling, before the smile faded and the tears began to well in her eyes. She began to shake; he could do nothing, say nothing except put his arm about hr shoulder._

_She leaned heavily into him, 'What's the matter with me Logan?'_

'_Nothin' ain't nothin' the matter with you kid, it's that ice-prick who needs to be taught a lesson, give me a couple hours with him in the Danger Room…'_

_Marie looked up at him, 'No, it ain't that. Why can't ah feel it Logan, what the hell's the matter with me, for fuck's sake Logan…ah can't feel it.'_

_She pushed him away and standing up began to scrape her fingernails down her bare arms causing deep scratches, marks and welts. In a few places she even drew blood. _

_Logan stared at her, before taking both her hands forcefully and stopping her from hurting herself further, convinced she'd finally lost it. 'Marie, what are you doin', stop it…just STOP!'_

_He gathered her in her arms pressing her tightly against his chest, her erratic heartbeat slammed louder and louder in his ears. She wrapped her arms about his neck and buried her head in his shoulder._

'_Ya gotta help me Logan…ah'm dying, this is killin' me…' Her short hurried whisper had him scared to death._

* * *

_He'd sat her in the big leather chair opposite his bed, and was stood himself by the table holding a large whiskey in his hand, he'd offered her a coffee, but she'd refused saying she was sober enough by now. Logan couldn't help but wonder if her ability to hold her drink had something to do with the bits of him she had in her head. She was only small, a lightweight the beers he was sure she'd had ought to have knocked her for six by now, but she was sober alright. _

_Her knees drawn to her chest, looking tired and jaded than he'd seen her in a long time, not that he'd be the best judge of that, he hadn't been around long enough to check in on her, make sure she was doing okay, make sure the ice-prick was looking after her._

_Truth was it just hurt too damn much, too many memories at the academy, too many chances to fall apart, a lot like she had now. You selfish bastard Logan, and you were the guy who'd told her he'd look after her, job-fuckin' well done._

_Marie stared at her feet the longest while before she at last began talking again, 'Ah went back to the clinic, ah wanted them to check, make sure they'd given me the right dose ya know. But they wouldn't, said it was a standard dose, must be ya they said, ain't nothin' wrong our end.'_

_She stood up and walked to the window, 'Ah knew they were right, couldn't help it though, ah wanted them to fix it…, fix me.'_

'_Marie…,' Logan placed the glass on the table and took a step toward her, 'said it before, darlin' ain't nothin' the matter with you.'_

'_No?' She turned back to look at him, 'Ya wanna know what ah did, when ah saw them together on my bed, Bobby and Kitty? Nothin', ah did nothin' just closed the door and walked away, caught him rutting like a dog on heat and ah just left them to it.'_

_She came to stand next to him, 'Ah should have kneed him in the balls and scratched her eyes out, but there was nothin' there…' she placed a hand above her heart. 'Ah couldn't feel it, three years of callin' him my boyfriend and over a year of fuckin' him Logan, and ah felt nothin'…seein' him with somebody else meant nothin'…'_

_She looked at him, 'So what's the point Logan, what's the fuckin' point of the cure if none of it means anything?'_

_He shrugged, 'So ya don't care if he's with someone else, that don't mean nothin' Marie.'_

_She smiled strangely at him, 'Could ya do it? Could ya live without him inside, without him twisting in your gut, without him whispering in your ear, so even when you're in the middle of nowhere ya know you're not alone, not really alone…could you that Logan?' He knew then she meant Wolverine.  
_

'_Marie, are you talkin' 'bout Rogue…?' Logan looked at her intently, the year through he had not heard Marie mention the other part of her once, the part she'd given up, the part she'd cured._

_Marie caught his look and shook her head, 'No regrets Logan, but guess ah just miss her now and again.'_

_She was stood by his shoulder now and reaching behind him she took up the glass of whiskey. He grabbed her arm before she could throw the liquid down her neck; she sighed and reluctantly put the glass back down._

_But she didn't move from where she stood, instead she took her hand and ran it up his arm, first intertwining her fingers in his before brushing it gently over the back of his hand, along the forearm and around his biceps coming to rest finally at his shoulder._

_She kept her hand there, meeting his intense gaze with her own, 'there's gotta be a secret to it, right Logan? Some sort of trick…' She snaked her hand across his shoulder blade and around to the back of his neck, 'somethin' ah'm missing.'_

_Marie pressed closer to him, her words brushed across his throat, every breath racking up the tension in his body, he recognized the low rumble starting in his chest and working its way lower. She was so fuckin' close, so dangerously close._

_She gently placed a finger on his bottom lip, tracing the line she used the slightest of touches to work along the stubble of his jaw, down to the chin, pausing ever so slightly against the Adam's apple of his neck, blowing a gentle breath there, before she continued exploring, down to the muscles of his chest, every rib and every contour._

_And all the while Logan held his breath, watching her work, all the time pushing the Wolverine in him down, vainly attempting to bury the urges that made him wanna grab her by the arms and take her to the bed and mark her in every way, bite her and scratch her, possess her in every way._

_Marie knew what she was doin' to him, she knew the dangerous game she played, but she was tired of waiting, tired of lookin' for answers, she needed him. 'Ah know ya can make me feel it Logan, make me feel it.'_

_She whispered gently as she began to work on the buttons if his shirt, for all his strength at that moment Logan seemed powerless to stop her. 'Ah've known Logan, since ya touched me on Liberty Island, ya gave me all of ya that day, and ah know…ah know ya want me.'_

_And before he knew it she was on her knees before him, tackling the heavy buckle of his belt, it was only until he got to the top button of his jeans that he thought to stop her. He grabbed her by the arms roughly and pulled her to her feet before pushing her away._

'_Marie…for fuck's sake stop,' he snarled at her furiously passing a tired hand through his hair. _

_But she reached for him again, and this time she kissed him. Hard and fast, pressing her mouth firmly against his he couldn't help but open up to her, as her warm tongue swept across his teeth. She tasted of beer and warm ginger, and she was heaven and hell and everything in between and it was the saltiness of her tears mingled with sweetness of her lips that made him push her away a second time._

_She brushed the tears away hurriedly, eager to get back to kissing him, but Logan just shook his head. 'You don't need this Marie, trust me ah ain't the answer you're lookin' for.'_

'_Come on Logan, are ya tellin' me ah got it wrong,' she stepped closer to him, looked up at him with those big brown eyes, so full of wanting and need, and Logan froze. They were innocent eyes, but they'd seen things and endured nightmares no-one so young should have to face._

_But they were his nightmares and Magneto's mixed up with horrors of her own, her mutancy was cured but they hadn't taken away the fear, the pain of a girl aged beyond her years. And that's what she is Logan; he reminded himself, a girl, an 18 year old girl._

'_Logan, tell me ya don't want me…' she asked him again, the pain in her voice clear._

_He looked at her at last, and he called up Wolverine, all his viciousness, all his cold sacrificial nature to speak as harshly to her as possible, 'No ah don't want you Marie, ah don't need you to complicate this, can't you see how fucked up this is already. What do you want from me? Do you want me to save ya, ah can't make ya feel it, ah can't make ya feel nothin', most of the time ah'm barely alive myself.'_

'_Ah can't save you, and ah'm tired of lookin' after you Marie. You're a lost little girl, and you always will be, you got what you said you always wanted, the cure, so get the fuck out there and live a life. And stop lookin' to me for all the answers…ah don't need this Marie, and ah don't need you…'_

_She could only stare at him, and then even as he was looking at her something snapped, something hardened and a light he had never before noticed went out. She smiled slightly, 'for all your invincibility Logan, you're still the biggest fuckin coward ah know…'_

_She walked out the door and never looked back. _

* * *

_Marie gritted her teeth and practically stomped her way to her room, something had hardened alright, and she'd finally realised it was time to take control. My life Logan, damn right, time to look after myself._

_She flung the door open of her room, and flicked on the light switch, Bobby and Kitty were still at it. The rustling from the sheets turned into a panicked scramble as they realised they had been caught out._

_Bobby jumped out of the bed first, 'God Marie, ah'm so sorry, ah don't what to say…' he made a grab for his pants._

_Marie ignored them both as she reached under her bed for her duffel bag, and began to cram it full of clothes. He was still making some sort of excuse when she'd finished and was heading out the door, she turned back to look at them a t last._

_They were by this time both only half dressed, approaching Bobby she smiled, 'don't believe what she tells you,' Marie nodded towards Kitty, 'size does matter and honey you came up short every time.'_

_She said all this even as she raised her leg and kneed him viciously; he went down like a sack of potatoes. 'And baby, ya should know ah faked it… every single damn time…'_

* * *

'_Last chance Logan…' she stopped at his closed door, she always knew he was never gonna open it. Reaching up, she took the metal dogs hanging around her neck and tugging them forcefully broke the clasp. She dropped them to the floor and walked down the corridor, out of the door and into the night._


	4. Lost Little Girl All Grown Up

_A/N: Come on people, ya should know by now, I'm a little review whore...so get reviewing and make my day! LOL ;-)_**  
**

**Part 4- 'Lost Little Girl All Grown Up…'**

_How the hell had it ever come to this? When had it become so fucked up he was throwing a bag into the back of his truck and walking away without so much as looking back. Like Marie, walk away without looking back._

_It had been a bad day, they were all bad days._

_He'd made a mistake, goin' after the boy like that but he hadn't been able to hold back, Wolverine was not known for his self-control. Still leaving him a bloody mess had not been the wisest move, it had taken three of them to pull him off Bobby and it had taken a helluva thunderbolt from Ororo to finally bring him to his senses._

_He'd checked in on the boy resting in the infirmary before he'd started packing, no major damage done, but he knew it could have been a different story, he could have easily killed him. It had been a month since Marie had left, and to him it seemed Bobby was enjoying himself too much. He'd moved on remarkably quickly, moved on to that girl Marie had caught him with._

_It was his own guilt that Logan was struggling with, but he found his blood boil every time he saw the ice-prick neckin' with his new girlfriend. He'd taken it out on him, every sensation of guilt, every bit of remorse, every fucked up thought he'd had since she'd left._

_It had been a really bad day._

'_It's not your fault Logan…,' her soft voice drifted over from the garage doors, 'it's not your fault that she left.'_

_He swore she had to be just a little bit psychic the way she always picked up on what everyone was thinking. He'd asked her about that once but she'd just smiled and said her powers involved the elements, all about noticing the slightest shift in the air, people were the same she'd said, like the weather it was all about looking for the signs._

_Logan sighed and his shoulders slumped forward, 'She asked me for help you know, just before she left, she wanted me to…help.' Logan shook his head and turned to look at Ororo, 'but I couldn't…I wouldn't.'_

_She smiled sadly, 'We have all suffered this past year, lost good friends,' her voice shook slightly as she spoke, 'and in our grief I suppose we overlooked Marie. You are not the only one to blame Logan, I…I suspect I was unkind to her also. Some sense of betrayal perhaps that she had taken the cure, and then I busied myself with the running of the school, I did not give her the time she needed.'_

_Logan nodded, understanding Ororo's feelings of guilt completely, 'She said she was dying…inside I mean, ain't nothin' there she said.' He jabbed a finger to his chest._

_Make me feel it Logan…make me feel it. He shut his eyes against the words that haunted him, had haunted him since the night she had spoken them and every night since._

_Ororo stood before him, placing a hand on his arm she consoled him gently._

'_All her life, since touch became to signify intimacy, all she had ever to associate the sensation with was pain and death. The first boy she ever kissed is still in a coma, she has the lives of more than one racing away in her mind, pain and death not only her own but of others.'_

_Logan stared at Ororo's hand, 'it ought to have been as easy as this for her, after the cure, it ought to have been as easy, it was the least she deserved.' He growled angrily, not at her but at the fucked-up situation altogether, at the thought of a girl, broken and suffering._

'_Yes Logan, it is the least she deserved, but Marie gave up a part of herself when she took the cure, a part she hated yes, a part that caused her suffering but it was a significant part all the same. Perhaps she is lost without it, I cannot know, but I only wish I had made more of an effort to reach out to her.'_

_Logan nodded, 'She said she had no regrets but she missed her, missed Rogue.'_

_Ororo sighed, 'Are you going to look for her?' She was slightly surprised by Logan shaking his head, she'd always thought he'd go after her as he had done when Marie had run away that first time; he'd gone after her then hell-bent on finding her, saving her._

'_No, Marie kinda told me where to get off the last time we spoke, she won't be goin' anywhere I'll be able to find her.'_

_She smiled up at him once more. 'So you're leaving because of the itch under your claws?' It was a pained smile, another one leaving, another friend lost._

_He nodded, 'Can't stay 'ere, not anymore, too dangerous…for everybody else that is. Been too quick to lose my temper lately, ain't a good thing, not around a house full of kids.'_

'_We'll miss you Logan, all of us, I cannot persuade you to stay?' She shook her head along with him always knowing what his answer would be._

'_Sorry, guess I'm in the habit of letting people down. I know you're gonna have you hands full with all this, but I'm out…' Logan looked at her and shrugged his shoulders._

'_I know Logan, I can't say you're presence here over the year hasn't been felt, but you need not feel guilty, about this place at least. Dr Hank McCoy called a few days ago, he's agreed to take up a position here. And there's Kurt of course…and some of the older students have agreed to take on responsibilities. The load will be shared, burdens are best resolved that way Logan, I hope you remember that.'_

_Logan laughed a little at that, 'maybe, but you know I was never one for sharing… or responsibility.'_

_She reached up and hugged him fiercely, 'I will miss you Logan, remember there will always be a place for you here, Marie as well, if you find her.'_

_He nodded, 'Tell the kid I'm sorry, 'bout hurtin' him.'_

_Ororo smiled reassuringly at him, 'I'm sure he knows Logan.'_

_He nodded his goodbye and was about to climb into his truck when she called out to him again._

_Ororo suddenly pressed his arm tightly, she sighed deeply and reaching inside her coat pocket brought out a metal object. She held it by the clasp and let it spin round; they were his dog tags, the ones he'd given to Marie._

_He stared at them in shock, he had no idea she'd left them behind, he'd always assumed she'd wear them, always figured she'd have a part of him wherever she went. _

'_Ah'll look after ya kid, these tags are a promise of that. Ah'm always gonna come back for them, for you.'_

_He'd remembered saying those words to her, and the way she'd looked when he'd put them around her neck, assured, happy…safe._

_For you Marie, always for you._

_His hand shook slightly as he took them from Ororo's hand, 'where…?'_

'_I found them Logan, outside your door, I'm sorry that I waited this long to give them to you, but I hoped that she would come back, or that you'd go looking for her sooner. I didn't want to hurt you anymore than was necessary. And I always knew what you'd feel if you found these…' She gushed out the words one after the other, her eyes brimming with tears._

'_You can't know, you can't ever fuckin' know…' he spat the words out at her, dismissive of her apologies. _

_How she could know, know that Marie letting go of the tags meant she was letting go of him, she'd said forever, if ah walk out it'll be forever. She didn't have a part of him, wherever the hell she was she didn't have a part of him, and the idea nearly killed him._

_He didn't replace the tags around his neck; instead he stuffed them in his pocket and slammed the door shut. _

_He'd missed them at first, the cold hard metal against his neck a stark contrast to the adamantium that seemed to be burned into his very soul. _

_When he'd first handed them over to Marie it had been significant, but he'd decided long since that they looked better on her. Shiny, gleaming metal that sparkled like her soul, it was odd then to hold the tags in his hands again, they seemed dulled almost, it didn't fit, they didn't suit him anymore._

_The only place they'd ever look right was against her neck, against her skin, over her heart. Right next to her, carrying a part of him._

* * *

_Marie had been at last thankful to her mother for teaching her the art of saving. She'd saved enough money in the bank to see her make it back to Caldecott, Mississippi. Back home to Ma and Pa, adoptive parents but home was home right, where the heart is and all that shit. Well not really, turned out good ol' Ma and Pa had left, moved without telling her._

_She hadn't cried then, no point she'd told herself, don't cry, and don't look back. But she had one more stop to make before she left the state, Hope Heart General, where a boy she had once known, a boy she once believed she had loved and almost killed lay in a coma._

_Three years of that guilt she'd carried around with her, three years of weighing her down, of almost killing her every time she'd pictured his face. Poor Cody, who knew kissin' a girl could prove to be such a deadly mistake._

_She'd stood at the window of his room, watched his mother tuck in the sheets around him, watched his father reading a paper in the corner, reading to him, all the latest baseball scores probably, Cody had been a sports nut._

_Had been…had been, now he was just a boy dependant on a mother to tuck him in, dependant on a machine to tell he was still alive, still holdin' on._

_But she hadn't cried then, as she'd walked out of the hospital's automatic doors, she hadn't cried, don't cry, and don't look back._

* * *

_The first time she remembered it happening was on the road north, he hadn't been all that bad lookin', a little greasy haired, unshaven and needing a bath for the best part of a week. But he'd said he would take her all the way to the border as long as she was willin' to pay him in kind._

_She'd find out what that had meant when he'd pulled over, parked the truck in a little ditch. She'd sat there quietly as he'd ran his hand over her thigh and in between her legs, making sure she knew exactly what he wanted._

_She'd smiled sweetly and moved into his touch, she let his hand travel further, across her taut stomach and hungrily grabbing at her breasts. She took out the band from her ponytail and shook her hair free._

_Reaching over she settled in his lap the steering wheel jutting painfully in her back. She passed a hand over his face, tracing the lines with her fingers, along his jaw, down his neck, along his arm before reaching down the side of the seat she found the lever and pulled._

_The seat fell backwards with a jolt, and she leaned forwards giving him the perfect view as she slowly undid the buttons of her shirt. Sitting up she wriggled provocatively in his lap, one hand in hair, the other moving slowly across her breast, dancing to a tune in her head._

_He watched her awhile, fascinated by every move she made, and at just how easy she was making this. He reached for the button front of her jeans, sighing loudly as he saw more and more of her. Black lace underwear trimmed with deep, deep red, his fingers moved over the apex of her legs, slipping between the material and her heated flesh._

_His fingers slid into her, roughly first, until she gasped just a little, before moving slower, pumping in and out, she pushed her hands against the roof of the truck pushing down on his hand, faster and harder until he felt the wetness slip out of her._

_The windows were well and truly steamed now, she smiled down at him as he held up a little foil packet for her inspection. She took it from him and ripped open the packet went and did as much for his faded jeans, and then she just sat, waited until his expression darkened and he all but whined._

_Smiling, she brought her hand up to her face and licked from the palm to the very fingertips. Her hand slick from her saliva she took a firm hold of him, using her moistened hand to run up and down his length, he moaned loudly as she slipped the rubber on him._

_Bracing her knees either side of him, she slipped off her panties pushing them lower before sliding herself on top of him. She leaned forward placing her hands on the headrest by his neck; she let him bury himself deep inside her._

_And then she began to move torturously slowly, just snaking her hips up and down, watching him as he begged for more friction, begged to push harder. She shook her head at him and slowly sliding her hands down his neck placed them firmly on both his shoulders._

_She kept the torture going 'til she thought he was going to explode, and then at last placing her head next to his she kissed him gently before whispering, 'Come on baby, make me feel it..'_

_That was his cue; he thrust harder and harder and practically screamed his release._

* * *

_It was the first time she knew what it was to fuck without caring, it was all about the moment, sex without the catch, she'd barely even known the guy's name, but she knew without a doubt she'd given him the ride of his life._

_She had walked away from the truck as they reached the border without looking back._

'_How 'bout that Logan? Grown up enough for ya?'_


	5. Never Gonna Get Drunk Enough

_A/N: Some S&M involved in this part, something you should most definitely not try unless you really trust your partner and only if you're sadistic_ _and masochistic, in which case I take no responsibilty for severed arteries or blood loss. Just sayin'... :-)_  
_Talking of disclaimers, forgot to do this before,s o this goes for this part any part I've written or will write, don't own X-Men so don't sue, ridiculously poor fucked-up girl here._

* * *

**Part 5- 'Never gonna get drunk enough…'**

He hurried to catch up to the general, his stride not quite matching the older man's. 'Sir…' he called out, 'sir permission to speak freely.'

The white-haired barely even glanced over his shoulder before shaking his head, 'Save it Bishop, I already know what you're going to say.'

Bishop stopped, wondering if he had heard right, 'Then the mission is to be postponed as I recommended sir?'

The General stopped also and turned to face him, 'No, the procedure goes ahead as planned, and the MO is exactly as it was.'

Bishop frowned, 'But sir…' he waved the file he held in his hand at him, 'surely you've read my report, the parameters have changed, she is no longer alone. You cannot possibly be considering jeopardising the programme through exposure.'

The older man bore down on him, 'Jeopardising?' He scowled, 'son this is one man, and as remarkable as you seem to think him I hardly think he is capable of jeopardising our agenda.'

Bishop spoke through gritted having to remind himself that he was speaking to a superior, 'Sir, perhaps you do not recall, but I was there the last time we tried to take them, I was part of the operation that sought to take Xavier's Academy, and I remember Logan.'

He lifted his shirt to reveal to reveal an ugly scar bearing across his stomach, at least a few inches deep, running from one hip to the other. 'I barely escaped with my life, and I saw what he did to members of my team. I watched him leap from a balcony General, at least 30 ft high and shred two men into pieces. Two men heavily armed, flak jacketed and expertly trained, he ripped them apart in minutes.'

The General grew tired of Bishop's voice, 'What is your point lieutenant?' he quipped in his clipped Southern accent.

'My point…sir, is that Logan; codename Wolverine will do _anything_ to protect Marie. We cannot run the risk of taking her when he is around… sir, it will be a massacre.' He gripped the General's arm tightly.

The General's scowl grew deeper, he looked down at Bishop's touching his arm with disdain at which point the young lieutenant wisely removed his hand. 'Bishop, I don't think we've anything to worry about with Logan, maybe we can kill two birds with one stone, take him as well, from what I've read in that little file of yours it seems Logan would prove quite an asset to our programme.'

Lieutenant Bishop's anger grew, 'My little files sir? The programme that created Logan all those years ago is similar to the one we've instigated here; Logan is a breed apart…,'

His superior didn't give him a chance to finish, he turned to walk away, 'Bishop I have waited over a year to see that girl leave the academy, now barely five months into our campaign and you want to waste more time. Forget it...'

Bishop wasn't ready to give up yet, 'But sir…my source informs me she isn't exactly open to his presence, perhaps given a few more weeks Logan will move on of his own accord. In that case sir we would be free to carry on uninhibited, the programme could move on at the desired pace.'

The General sighed, 'And how probable is that Bishop, in percentages?' He waited for an answer.

'Percentages sir? I would have to say at least around fifty-fifty…' Bishop called out even as the General walked on.

'Not good enough…we take her, as planned lieutenant.'

* * *

It had been nearly a month since the big man had turned up at Starkey's. And a whole month of having Marie virtually ignore them would have sent anyone crazy, but he seemed oddly calm about it. 

Joe looked over at Logan pressed into the corner of the bar, bottle after bottle piling up on his table. He cleaned his glasses and turned to look towards the other corner of the bar and at the girl both of them were thinking about.

Marie moved effortlessly through the crowds, she wore thin strapped black stilettos, fishnet stockings, a short skirt of leather and a little white sleeveless t-shirt. The cold winter Canadian border had down nothing for her tan, but Marie just seemed to look all the better for it. Her eyes darkened with mascara, thick eye lashes heavily coated and a dark red lipstick worked expertly because of that alabaster skin of hers.

And it gave almost every prick in the bar an excuse to pawn after, to watch her wiggle that tight little ass of hers, to watch that shirt strain as she bent over their tables. And as long as they remembered and stuck to the rule, _'No one touches Marie unless she wants them to,' _she was happy to put on a show for them.

So the skirts got shorter and the shirts got tighter and all the while mean old Logan just sat their watching. Not leering like the others, not leaning back so as to accidentally brush against her ass if she walked past, not looking down her shirt to get a good look at her rack, just…watching.

* * *

Marie could feel his eyes follow her about the bar, and she hated it. Hated the way he sat there bottle after bottle piling up on that table in front of him. Hated the way he looked after her, and hated the way almost everyone in the bar knew about it. 

Because of him she hadn't been able to get a decent tip; ever since he'd arrived it seemed she'd almost turned back into that Marie, the girl who couldn't be touched. The regulars of Starkey's knew nothing of the mutation that used to be hers, she'd been very careful to keep that part of her life a secret.

Now they were just afraid of big bad-ass Logan sat in the corner watching after the girl with the streaks in her hair. Watched if they got too frisky, watched if their hands wandered where they really shouldn't, or if they looked after her ass for too long as she walked away. It was as if he was her personal bodyguard, one she hadn't appointed and one she sure as hell didn't need.

But the tips got smaller, even as her skirts got tighter and her shirts got tighter. Logan didn't ever need to say anything but the way he put away those drinks and the way he put down men the size of houses down in the cage sure spoke volumes.

'_No one touches Marie unless ah want them to, and that sure as hell ain't gonna happen.'_

And she hated him for that, possessiveness, animalistic tendency, like a feral thing marking his territory. But if nothing else she got a decent lay out of it, needing to make up for the lack of tips her usual way and now as well as an urge to piss him off, revenge in the basest of ways.

* * *

Logan watched her as she made her way through the tables, careful to make eye-contact with the assholes she served. 

A month, it was the longest time he'd stuck in a place since leaving the Academy, strange the only places he's ever stayed still in the same place for any length of time was where she was. Stayed almost three years in that Academy, because she'd needed him to be there.

Marie, who now fucked guys just as easily as she flirted with them, and who went outside with them, a seedy grope, and a quick fuck against a brick wall. Little gasps of pleasure, moments of madness, desire and everything that was fucked up followed by the slow rustling of dollar bill as she set about making good her little ritual, get drunk, fuck and fight.

Her ritual…his ritual. Thing was he was never gonna get drunk enough, bottle after bottle piling up on his table, never enough. Not as much as he needed, not enough to forget, enough to blur the image of a girl he had once known all twisted up in bitterness, fucked up enough to think a quick fumble against a wall was all she was worth.

He had one bottle he placed in the centre of the table, the first he'd order, drain it in a matter of minutes, set it up so it stood alone and then he'd hang the dog tags around the neck. So she'd have to look, she'd have to see that he knew that if she was too fucked up to care, he knew what she was, and what she had been.

* * *

Marie sat down heavily at the bar, and ordered a Scotch, neat; yep it had been one of those nights. Fuckin' Logan, thanks to him it was regularly turning into one of those nights. Thing was aside from the tips she liked the attention she got, the regulars looking too long at her ass as she walked away, the stares as she'd bend over their table, for far too long she'd covered up hidden that figure of hers, damned if she touched someone skin on skin, terrified of getting hurt and of hurting them. 

Even after the cure she'd dressed in long sleeves, sometimes shirts a few sizes too big, feeling awkward, revealing skin only when she was sure she wouldn't get noticed, hiding away.

All that had changed as soon as she'd left the Academy, left that old life behind, left him behind, _'dammit Logan what are you still doin' here?'_ she muttered to herself as she looked up and caught his eye in the dirty mirror behind the bar.

Logan had stared at her back long enough for her to look up and catch his eye in the mirror. She stared at him for the longest while before slowly getting up, picking up her drinks tray and slowly walking over to his table.

She stopped a few feet in front of him, bent down low and began to pick up the bottles, her shirt hung open, the first few buttons undone and he caught sight of her bra, black lace trimmed with red, deep red like her lips. She caught his gaze and smirked at him, _'not all that different from the rest of the assholes are ya Logan?'_

He looked away and caught her reflection in the mirror again, specifically the back of her. The shirt had ridden up a little as she bent and he caught sight of something on her lower back that made him look twice.

Frowning he grabbed hold of her hand as she reached for the last bottle and pulled her towards himself. The action was so sudden she had no time to react as Logan pulled her over his lap, her chest resting over his knees as her ass stuck up in the air.

The tray fell to the floor as he held her in place with one hand, and then she felt his thumb move across her lower back, just above the band of her skirt, slowly, in circles as he traced the outline of an image he had glimpsed in the mirror.

She swore at him and pulled herself up, pulling her short back in place as she did. 'What the hell's you're problem Logan?'

'Branding yourself above the ass, classy Marie, real nice…' he growled his disapproval at her. He was referring to the tattoo, a picture splayed across her back, a bleeding skull being strangled by snakes.

She shook her head and smiled coldly at him, 'Ya don't like it? Got it last week, guess shoulda known ya wouldn't approve,' she leaned closer and whispered in his ear, 'never were the biggest fan of needles were ya Logan?'

He looked up harshly at her as she smiled down at him, she knew about his nightmares, the ones he suffered almost every night. Images of men in white coats cutting him open, breaking him, killing him and bringing him back to life again, injecting him with poisons…needles. Pain after screaming pain as they tore at his skin as they had made him what he was now.

She knew all that, yet here she was taunting him with it, she walked around him, picking up the bottles she walked back to the bar. If at any point Logan could have hated Marie that was it, he hated her then.

* * *

She threw the tray on the bar, the bottles clattering over as she did so. Her hands shook as she fought to control her anger. And that's when she saw him walk in, she looked at him a long while, making sure it was the same guy before she smiled, looked like it was gonna be a bonus pay day after all. 

He was the same guy, she was sure of it as she walked over to him slowly, even as he was still stood in the door, he spotted her as she was only halfway across the floor, and he smiled, his favourite sort of girl. Little Marie, just about fucked up enough to play any sort of game his sick mind could come up with.

He caught her up in his arms as she wrapped her long legs about his waist, she lowered her head to kiss him, licking his lower lip gently before she bit down hard, hard enough to draw blood.

He winced as the blood trickled from his split lip, moaning in pleasure as she lapped it up, cleaning him up with her tongue.

He smiled further, looked like Marie was ready to play.

* * *

Marie screamed out her orgasm knowing full well that was what he liked, girls making a lot of noise. She waited for him to still before she climbed off his body. He was the first and only guy she'd ever taken back to her room. Other times she was content with the wall outside behind the bar, and the guys she fucked were more than happy as long they got their rocks off, but he was different. 

His taste was different, the sex was only part of it, and now that was done the real fun would start. He got rid of the rubber and waited until she was wearing her panties and bra again.

He leaned back against the headboard, having replaced his own pants and watched her as she replaced her underwear and knelt beside him on the bed. 'Ready to play…?'

She nodded and reaching up he kissed her, slowly at first, until he pried her lips open with her tongue, brushing his tongue over teeth, over the roof of her mouth tasting every inch of her he broke away from her, and reaching inside his jean pocket placed something on his tongue.

He kissed her again, this time as she opened her lips he slipped the object inside her mouth resting it on her tongue, she tasted the metallic and knew almost at once by its deadly sharp edges, by the weight exactly what it was, a razor blade.

He pushed her back onto the bed, leaning over her he took the blade from her mouth and began to move it over body, gently at first, careful not to mark her, not yet anyway. He used his tongue to blaze a trail down her body before he moved the sharp metal following the same route as his tongue.

Along her perfect cheeks, down along her neck, flicking lightly in that hollow over her throat, and down across her bra, first one breast then the other, licking gently then pressing the flat of the razor over the material. She gasped slightly as he nicked at the hardened nub of her nipple.

He smiled at her then, and she looked intently at him, not there, not yet. He understood perfectly and moved down further, down to the flat of her stomach, he took extra care here, paying her taut skin the perfect attention, licking gently and breathing softly.

She arched her hips, an involuntary reflex, but he hadn't found the spot he'd wanted, not yet. He moved lower, over the top of her panties, she was getting excited again and he held one hand over her knee to still her.

Moving his other hand further up her leg, he marked a cross with his finger at the top of her thigh where the material of her high leg panties met the flesh. He looked up at her for her approval she nodded and he smiled.

Taking the blade he turned it on its edge and pressed down at the place he'd marked, she winced in pain as the sharp metal cut through the flesh, she sat up and watched as the cut slowly opened up and her blood trickled down her thigh.

Her gaze met his as he lowered his head to her leg, slowly he licked the blood as it trailed down, gently, slowly she moaned as his lips closed over her wound and sucked softly.

* * *

He knew she'd make this mistake, take a guy back to her room, even if the motel lot was only a few hundred yards away from Starkey's it was enough to see her in trouble if she picked up the wrong guy. Turned out this time maybe this time she had. 

Logan sniffed the air contemptuously, pounding the back of his head repeatedly against the wall, he stood outside the door, pissed off by all the familiar smells coming from her room, arousal, satisfaction and fucking, Marie fucking another random guy.

But this was different, even as he picked up all the scents he recognised, there was something else, a coppery, tangy taste in the air he was as sure of as anything else. Blood, healthy, pounding oozing blood, something the Wolverine in him knew all about.

Fuck, Marie was in trouble, the guy was a cutter. He didn't think twice as he rammed his shoulder against the door, ripping the lock apart and practically taking the door off its hinges.

He headed straight for the guy, seeing him bent over Marie, recognising the flash of metal in his hands as a razor blade he then laid into him. Picking him up easily he hurled him across the floor, ready to beat the crap out of him that was before Marie got in the way.

She was shouting something he couldn't understand until he finally calmed enough to hear above the blood stop pounding in his ears.

'For fuck's sake Logan…ah wanted him to do it!' He looked at her then, Marie stood in her underwear, a patch of red growing and trickling down her right thigh, Marie, who'd barely five months ago thrown her arms about his neck and cried. This was too much; he turned away from her and ran a tired hand through his hair.

Marie turned back to the guy, by now a cowering mess on the floor; she threw his shirt at him, she then threw his jacket at him but not before taking a handful of folded bills from the pocket.

She nodded towards the door and he practically ran in that direction. Marie closed the door after him. Logan turned to look at her at last; she stood looking directly back at him.

'You wanted him to cut you? That's…sick Marie…'

She smiled at him, 'that's sick? How 'bout listening to someone fuck, ya think ah don't know ya follow me out every time, think ah don't know when you're standing on the other side of that wall.'

Marie approached him slowly, 'come on Logan, don't tell me you've never been curious, just to taste ya know, to cut someone to see what they bleed like, see how much it hurts before ya crave it.'

She was stood right in front of him now, stood in nothing but her underwear, pressing her hand over his, brushing her fingers over his knuckles, where she knew his claws to be.

He growled fiercely, suddenly gripping her by the neck he pushed back until she was pressed against the wall, 'You are one fucked-up, vindictive little….' He stopped short of that but she urged him on.

'What?' she spat at him, '…vindictive little what Logan….?' demanding he finish.

'Whore…!' The word escaped him before he thought about it, but it fit, Marie was a vindictive little whore.

She laughed and pushed him back, 'Wow Logan, that hurts almost as much as when ya called me a lost little girl, remember that? Almost hurts as much, just not quite.' Seeing him on the back foot now she pressed further, determined to hit a spot she knew was sore.

'You've sure got one helluva way with words Logan, no wonder Jeanie fell for ya…' her smile was pure venom.

Logan's eyes snapped to her and he shook his head at her in warning, 'don't…'

'Don't what Logan; don't raise the dead…why not? Have ya still got a thing for everyone's favourite recently deceased red-head….?' She chuckled, 'funny, given how many blondes you've fucked in between, ah would've thought you'd be over it by now.'

That was it, that was the point she pushed him too far, he pushed her against the wall again, his body pressed crushingly against her and every scent came off in her in waves; the smell of that asshole still on her, her blood, the pure hate as she looked angrily up at him, all that assaulted every one of his senses, and flooded his veins, she may have been cured but she sure spat venom.

It made him grab her by the wrist and hurl her toward the bathroom. Had to get rid of the smell, he had to breathe again, he pushed her roughly into the bathroom intending to stick her under the shower, scrub her clean just so he could look at her again, but he'd forgotten his own strength, he pushed her too hard, she tripped and hit the sink hard.

Logan stood by the door, stunned by his actions, of all the people whose ass he thought he'd have to beat on he'd never thought Marie would be one of them. Over the years when he'd lost his temper with Scooter, the other X-kids and even the Professor, he'd kept it under control.

But Marie, he'd never thought, never was any question that he'd never hurt Marie. But there she was down on her knees in the dirty bathroom of a cheap seedy motel room clutching her face. She rose slowly and turned to face him, with a deep cut above her eye and a split lip, the side of her face bruised.

'Shit…Marie ah'm sorry…' he had nothing else to say, couldn't stand the sight of what he'd just done.

She shook her head and walked towards him, the blood from the cut above her eye trickling down her cheek. 'You're right Logan, ah am fucked up, 'cause of you and Bobby and every bastard since, fucked up because of that damned academy that only wanted me when they could use me, yeah ah'm fucked up, but ah'm living my life… but it's what ya wanted isn't it!'

She pushed against him then, punching him and slapping him, her arms flaying wildly against his chest, 'So what are ya doin' here Logan, what do want, ya wanna save me now, well guess what, too fuckin' late.' She pushed him back towards and out of the door.

'So get the fuck out my head…and get the fuck out my life,' she slammed the door in his face, 'get the fuck out my heart…' she muttered quietly to herself as she leaned heavily against the closed door and cried.


	6. Like All Of Us, Lost Until We Are Found

_A/N: Glad you like the story, keep reading and reviewing LOL! The fallout from their argument here, with Logan thinking of giving up and just when Marie finds herself in trouble...  
_

* * *

**Part 6- 'Like All of Us, Lost Until We Are Found…'**

'Sorry doll, but you can't work lookin' like that…' Marie had worked hard to cover up the bruise, but all the make-up in the world wasn't gonna cover up a black eye and a swollen face, especially given it'd only happened a few hours ago.

The ugly welts were gonna be there for a good few days, never mind the plaster she'd put over her cut eye, and the heavy foundation to cover the purple and blue, Logan sure had left his mark.

She tried to reason with her boss, he only shook his head at her and shrug his shoulders, 'Come on Marie, my customers wanna be served by a pretty face, not one that looks like it lost a fight with a tow truck.'

She laughed slightly though it hurt her jaw to do so, 'It ain't that bad Harry, come on.'

But he was adamant, 'ain't that bad, honey have you looked at yourself?' He took her by the arm and spun her around to face the mirror, 'I'm sorry darlin' but that asshole sure did a number on you.' He patted her hand, 'take a few days off, come back when the swelling goes down, you know you always got a job here.'

He left her standing in his office, looking at her face again in the mirror; Logan sure had done a number on her, she raised her hand to her cheek, gingerly passing her fingertips over the bruises. 'Ya bastard Logan…Gawd ah hate ya…'

Making her way out of the back room office she weaved her way through the crowds, many of them turning to look at the pretty little girl with the ugly bruise. She hated that she stood out like this, for all the wrong reasons, not because of the tight shirts or the short skirt but because of the cuts and the bruises. A pretty face all torn up.

They'd all figured by now Logan had something to with it, he would never have let someone lay a hand on her, her unofficial bodyguard, and if that was the case, Marie's bruises had everything to do with him and his fists. And having seen the way he'd torn apart opponents in the cage, they probably thought she'd had a lucky escape with the damage he'd done.

She looked towards Joe, who nodded and smiled sympathetically at her as she walked out of the bar.

* * *

He waited as the small voice on the other end of the line told him the line was secure and that he could go ahead and talk. Shuffling impatiently from one foot to the other, he watched as his warm breath hit the cold air outside the bar, the thin wisps evaporating into the night.

'What have you got for me…?' The voice clipped, deliberately short, military precision and trained came back at him.

'It's time, she's ready.' His own words were equally short, clipped, military training. No point using more words than necessary, get to the point, uncompromising, resolved and precise.

'What about Logan?'

'He's gone.' His teeth gritted slightly at that, 'You're sure?' He could understand the reason for doubt, watching Logan over the past month he'd been convinced the man would never leave, certainly not without Marie.

'Yeah I'm sure, spent the last of his winnings on some groceries and a few cases of beer. Saw him piling the lot into his truck; he got in and drove off.' He recalled the events perfectly as he had watched the altercation between Marie and Logan, watched as she had pushed him out the door, seen the blood on her face and knowing instantly that he was the cause of it, had cursed Logan for hurting her like that.

'He left her behind?' The voice at the other end was still unsure; he had had trouble believing what he'd seen himself at the time, until he'd seen Marie walk into the bar later. That ugly bruise not being hidden by her attempts with the make-up.

'Yeah, he had no choice, sonofabitch knocked her several shades of black and blue.' He practically snarled the last words down the phone.

Several moments of silence followed, further doubt, 'Logan hit her? You sure 'bout that?'

He clutched the phone tighter, the cold air seeping into his bones; he grew impatient, 'For fuck's sake I know what I saw alright!' He snapped, 'Look just come pick her up and get me the hell outta here as well.'

'Wound up a little tight aren't you?'

His fist clenched against his side, he fought the urge to swear at his employer, 'Yeah, you would be to, if you had to work in a shit hole like this, piss poor pay and having to watch sleazy bastards get off over girls young enough to be their daughters.'

The voice on the other end remained calm, patient and clipped, allowing for his source's insolence, half a year in the field, in the rough-neck bars on the bitter Canadian border had to go someway to wearing down all that military training. Guess it was time, they were both ready to come in.

* * *

'Fuck…fuck...fuck, fuck, fuck!' Logan hit the steering wheel with his fists stamping out every obscenity getting more pissed off by the second. He growled in frustration and pulled over his truck, the claws shooting out of his hand almost uncontrollably.

Pushing the door open he climbed out the truck and fought hard to breathe, to take control, the pain from the metal in his hands burning from the intensity of his anger and his shame.

All that hurt and fury that had poured out of him and out of her, and what he'd done because of it. Her face, her beautiful face bleeding and bruised because he had let it get away from him, had let the anger take over. Her words and they way she looked played over and over in his head, '_Because of ya Logan, ya and every bastard since.'_

It was his fault, she'd said as much, the time he'd pushed her away, the time she'd asked him for help, the times she'd cried on his shoulder and he hadn't given her what she'd wanted.

Realising now, too late, that it wasn't sex, a quick fuck against a doorway or a brick wall, but for him to hold her, just to be held and to be told that she was alive, feeling everything that needed to be felt, that she was whole, not broken and wrong, but just needing to be found.

Like all of us lost until we were found, nothing wrong in that, nothing to fear. But he'd pushed her away, his own sense of guilt making it seem seedy and depraved. And that's what he'd seen die in her, that wanting, that need to feel in place. She'd given up on the human touch and now like she'd told him, it was too late, too bad she'd said you're too late, it's gone.

She's gone, that little girl, lost little Marie who'd scratched herself deep into her arms, who would have given anything to feel something, anything. And so now she'd changed, determined that in an effort to feel something she'd throw herself into feeling everything all at once, lust and ecstasy pleasure…pain. All of it, all at once, at some point hoping something would stick, a memory would embed itself and remain, and a feeling would be imprinted on her troubled soul.

The quick fucks against the walls, the cheap and dirty gropes, the cutters, the beaters and the strangers who for a few minutes allowed her to tear it apart and put it back together all in a different way, something different, but never the same.

But always on her own, she didn't need him, not anymore, no need for him to hold her up, to put it back together. _'You're too late…too fuckin late.' _ Too late to save me this time, too bad, ya had your chance and now it's gone.

What did he want? To save her, a chance to redeem himself and her along with it?

He took a deep breath, staring up at the clear night sky, focusing on every star, pouring all the intensity into shutting his eyes and letting the cold air wash over him. It seemed to work, his claws slowly retracted and he watched as the skin healed over them, knitting over, closing the wound perfectly as if the metal that cut through had never been there at all.

The wound that had never been there at all, he wished he could say the same for what he'd done to Marie. Climbing back into the truck he just sat starin' at the open road ahead of him, could he do it, could he walk away? Could he let Marie pass him by a second time, could he leave her behind? Let all the guilt wash over him, tear them apart, was it really too late?

* * *

Marie sat on the floor, her back pressed against the bed, her head thrown back. She stared at the yellowing ceiling, the flaking paint reflecting her mood, tired and getting worse.

Her room was marked by its emptiness, a single creaking bed, a tired dirty coloured carpet that was every bit as cheap as it looked and a single dresser drawer by the bed where she kept her clothes.

Nothing more, nothing too personal, nothing to mark the place as her own, cheap motel rooms were designed to be moved on from, to be left behind, no one would ever want to lay claim to a shit-hole like this. Even in her position, alone and working a dirty, cheap bar there was such a thing as going down further in the world. Laying claim to this place would be it.

She held a bottle of whiskey in one hand, and a glass in the other, the bottle already half empty, the fire in her belly compensating for the fact she hadn't eaten in hours. She smiled, it was one hell of a diet, wondered if she should endorse it, the key to losing all that weight, fill your stomach with alcohol, hell if there's any room left in there for food.

Downside was the headaches and the nausea. She balked as another wave hit her, and rising hastily to her feet rushed for the bathroom. She barely made it before she emptied her gut into the sink, sputtering she wiped her mouth clean and looked, only to be faced with her reflection once more. Tired eyes and a bruised face stared back at her.

She grimaced as the pain in her head increased, clutching her hair, tugging she fought to gain control. The pain became sharper, insistent, sharp jabs, like hot knives being pushed into her head.

So intense, wave after wave of red hot pain pushing through, pushing her to her knees. Her vision blurred and she lay flat out on the floor, crippled by the fear and aches, she rolled onto her back, gasping to catch a breath.

Hot tears welled in the back of her eyes blinding her further; she blinked through them as she tried to look around her. And then she thought she caught the sound of voices, barely whispers that floated over to her, seeming so far away.

Her last image was of dark figures stood over her, kneeling by her…


	7. Evil Comes Disguised

**Part 7- 'Evil Comes Disguised…'  
**

He had gotten half way down that road when he's slammed the brakes hard, it must have been a good half hour that he sat there, starin' at the nothin' outside the windscreen. Pitch black night, the beam from his headlights only stretching out so far.

Outside on that deserted road there was nothin' and all of a sudden it seemed that jus' wasn't good enough, once upon a time he'd have revelled in the fact there was a vast empty space out there.

The Wolverine in him would have howled, his animal nature given free reign, out there where there were no consequences, no fucked-up ideas of responsibility, nothin' to hold him back, but not anymore.

Now there was somethin', someone with a hold on him, someone with a claim on him and she was back there, a fucked up girl with a fucked-up attitude to life, little Marie, grown up beyond her years. Lost in her little wilderness, alone and bitter.

And yeah he'd given her reason to be, reason to hate him, to say everythin' she'd spat at him and more. But he'd been too much of a coward to tell her why, why he'd pushed her away. Why instead of doin' what he'd really wanted to that night in his room, how instead of taking her in his arm, kissing her back, taking her to his bed, he'd pushed her out of his room, out of his life and ended up pushing himself out of her heart.

Truth was he'd been scared, piss scared 'cause it seemed she knew everything, she held everythin' 'bout him up in her head and that idea scared the hell out of him. She knew where he hid his beer, in the back of the fridge behind the salads, she knew how he liked his eggs in the morning, his favourite type of cigar, and she knew everything, all the mundane, all the unimportant things and more.

More, so much more, memories that haunted him, a life he'd deliberately kept hidden for so long, parts of his past that he was ashamed of, the pleasure he took in the hunt and kill, the endless nights of drinking, and the whores he used for his pleasure afterwards. The nameless and faceless blonds, seedy motels, the back of his truck, up against walls, fucked up little moments of pleasure in a fucked up life.

She knew all that and more, and instead of walkin' away she'd been drawn to him, she'd been willin' to give it all to him, she knew his shame, but still she'd wanted him. And that terrified the shit out of him; she was too young, too young to understand that his life, his darkness was something she shouldn't know, not yet, not like this.

Too young and at the same time too old, too tired, the both of them were too scarred for it to ever work between them, she had too much already filling that head of hers to take on his pathetic excuse for a life as well.

It had been self-sacrificial, the Wolverine practising what he had always put into too practise, self-preservation, he had to look after himself, and in doing so he'd been doin' her a favour, _don't think 'bout me like that kid, ah'll only end up hurtin' ya, ripping it apart for ya._

Believe me, you don't need that.

So what had changed? Was it him, had the fact that he'd come so close to losing her finally pushed him into waking up to what he really felt about her? He couldn't say, all he knew was he couldn't walk away, not now, and even if it had changed for her, if she didn't want him anymore he had to tell her.

Had to explain to her his reasons, to let her know that he could see her scars that he could see the open wounds, the pain that she tried to drown in the drink, in the mindless fucks she took outside the bar, he could see them all because he had been through the same.

He'd been scared because she reflected so much of what he was, and that's why he'd pushed her away, but had he the chance again, could the situation come round again; he would never let her go. That moment she threw her arms about his neck, he would never have let go.

_'You might hate me now Marie…and however unfair this is, however late, ya should know, I love you…whatever that means. I'm a coward for lettin' it get this far, but darlin' I love you…'  
_

The tyres skidded as he threw the truck into a 180 turn, gritting his teeth as the car spun to face the opposite direction, his face set into grim determination he drove back to the motel.

* * *

He knew as soon as he pulled into the motel lot that something was wrong, the air was too still, the place too quiet. His eyes squinted, adjusting to the darkness, he realised it was so dark because every light was out. 

Even the sign, the red neon flashing sign that hung from the side of the building was dark and empty. It was as if the whole place was holding its breath, waiting…waiting for something.

He headed towards Marie's room, his every step cautious and quiet, stealth a second nature to him.

Her door was open, ever so slightly, no lights from the room but he could make out the sounds of shuffling feet. Quiet, small calculated steps moving around, if he had to guess, he'd say there were at least three others in her small room. And he knew that was three too many.

He stopped at the door, sniffing the air, he made out testosterone, hyper charged up scents, and he understood it completely, adrenaline, pure energy coursing through a body, energy that was being worked hard at to contain. So they weren't amateurs, professional intruders, what then, military…?

That last thought sent his memory flying back to that time in the mansion, Stryker's invasion, fleeing through the night, swearing blue murder, remembering thinking what he would have done, how he would have enjoyed ripping each of those soldier's apart piece by fuckin' piece.

But she'd needed him then, Marie, fragile and afraid, needed him then, and needing him now. He burst into the room claws unsheathed, grating them against each other, the metal screeching as the sparks flew from them, roaring loudly, his shoulder hard against the door, he sent it flying off the hinges, as well as the unsuspecting soldier stood on the other side of it.

He was pinned beneath the fallen door, Logan took extra pleasure in stepping over the wood, making sure to pound his feet hard, and makin' sure he ground the fucker's face into the floor as he did.

The burst of gunfire from readied guns could never have caught him off guard, he'd almost expected it, and as he flew through the arc, deadly claws held out in front of him he made sure he stared into the eyes behind that cowards mask.

He shredded the gun with an easy wipe, the weapon now useless; Logan smiled grimly as the soldier stared at him, bug eyes filled with fear peeking through a covered face, Logan picked him up easily and sent him flying through the window, he landed with a bone crunching thud on the bonnet of car parked outside before sliding limply down to the tarmac and passing out.

Now there was only one left, the bastard who'd slammed the bathroom door as he'd seen Logan coming. The dumb shit had to be kiddin' himself if he thought that was gonna keep him out, as long as he had Marie in there, as long as he was hurtin' her, no fuckin' way was Logan gonna let him live.

He kicked the door open, the wood splintering easily, he growled loudly as he recognised the face hovering over Marie.

Marie, little Marie, now looking more broken than ever, lying flat out on her back, her hair tumbling about her, her fists clenched, whimpering in fear. Logan's eyes took in everything, the sight of her body writhing in pain, the spent vials that lay around her, and the blood from needles forced deep into her arms trickling down her skin.

Logan looked up at the man who stood above her, his growl fierce; he lunged forward only to be brought up short by the sight of the barrel of a handgun aimed directly at his head. He stopped for the briefest of seconds, before the trigger was pulled and the bullet imbedded itself in his skull. He saw black and fell to the floor.

* * *

Marie could only wonder at the sounds that crowded in on her as she struggled against the pain, the aches that seemed to tear at every parts of her body. Her arms ached, her legs felt broken, her chest seemed to be caving in, every breath a struggle, and her head pounded.

What was happening, she thought she heard screamin', bodies fallin', the thud and crunch of bones crushing, of pain resounding, every single vibration in the air was a cacophony of noises that hounded in on her, that meshed into one unending, heart wrenching scream.

And she realised it was her scream, she'd cried out against the blackness that was overcoming her, her sight was failing and now she was going deaf as well, it was too much, it was all too much.

A soothing hand was passed over her face and she clutched at it desperately, something, somebody was there, somebody was going to help her, she would be saved. She blinked against the grateful tears that fell down her face, blinked through the haze, and saw the brief outline of a man, someone she recognised.

Joe, it was Joe, her friend he would save her, 'It' alright…' he seemed to be whispering, this'll all be over soon, don't worry Marie, I'm gonna take care of you…'

* * *

Logan stirred slightly, his movement was slow and calculating, he watched as the barman crouched close to Marie, he was talkin' to her, all the while whispering to her.

The bastard had shot him, sonofabitch, Logan knew he couldn't trust him, there'd been something 'bout him, the way he'd given information so easily, small snippets of things he knew Logan could never really make sense of.

They all made sense now, he'd watched the barman almost as much as he'd watched Marie, he'd seen the way Joe assessed situations, seen the way he'd studied every body that walked through the door of that bar, weighing up the threat the new face exposed, watching, calculating always sussing out the new faces.

Seeing how far their interest in Marie travelled, watching over Marie, and keeping her close.

It was a military mind, Logan should have guessed, the furtive half-glances Joe threw around the room, looking, seeing everything in an instant, calculating odds, the precise movements, the studied air of a man playing at barman. Fuck, he should have known, Joe was the inside man.

Logan turned his head slightly to one side, concentrating on the spent bullet that he pushed out of his skull, catching it gently in the palm of his hand without a sound, not wanting the cartridge to hit the tiled floor.

He wanted to catch this fucker completely off guard, he gritted his teeth, and in an instant the claws were out, Joe heard the swish of the adamantium too late, Logan lurched forwards with a snarl and swiped the blades deep into Joe's combat boots, the metal moved across with deadly ease, cutting the Achilles tendon of both feet and rendering Joe useless.

The man fell to the floor in agony, just as Logan jumped to his, Joe's second shot with the gun went wide embedding itself somewhere in the roof; Logan kicked the weapon out of his hand, before reaching down and pulling him up by his jacket.

'What're ya doin' 'ere?' He shook him for good measure, 'What the fuck d'ya want with Marie?'

But Joe had been trained well, he wasn't gonna talk, even if he was bleeding heavily, his face growing paler by the second, Logan threw him back down with disgust, making sure Joe's head hit tiled the floor hard. He jutted his claws under his chin, 'You tell whoever you're workin' for to back off, 'cause the last thin' ya fuckers want is me comin' after ya.'

They both knew it was a useless warning, Joe's employers were too well connected, whoever they were it was a slick operation, waiting for months, fooling everybody, getting Marie's trust, it had been a long drawn out process, they weren't going to back off, not even if Logan threatened to rip their heads off.

He had to get Marie out of here, Marie was calling out again, and he heard her call out his name, 'Joe…'

He looked down at Joe, who even as he was bleeding to death, unable to move his legs because of Logan's handiwork seemed to be smiling, laughing at him, Logan growled before kicking him. His heavy heeled toe boot connected solidly with the man's groin, and now it was Logan's turn to smile as he watched Joe scream in agony.

* * *

She was moving, being lifted and carried, her eyes, eyes overflowing with tears from pain, sharp jabs of stabbing fury pulling away at her head, her aching eyes would not open. She could only catch glimpses of a tattered jean jacket, tufts of hair, and strong muscles, strong arms carrying her away, to where and to what? 

Her head lolled back and she mumbled something, not words but whimpering sounds, he must have heard her; he stopped walking long enough to lay her down on something soft, something solid, something somewhere. Gripping the sides of her face he pushed her hair out of her face and leaned close, prying one eye open gently and then the other.

Hot tears, tears of pain, rolled down her cheeks, but still she couldn't see, oh dear lord was she blind? That thought warranted another whimper, one more desperate, fearful and pathetic, she reached for his arms again, wanting needing to feel something solid, something assured, she gripped his arms tightly, her fingers digging into his jacket, fingernails embedding deep into his skin, 'help me….' she whispered, the first coherent words she'd uttered since the pain had started.

He ran his hands up her arms, alarmed by the skin that was already cold and clammy; with gentle strokes he tried his damn hardest to reassure her, even though the panic rose within him, the fear constricting his chest, what had they done to her?

'Hush darlin'…' he whispered close to her ear, 'ah'm here, it's gonna be alright…'

It had to be alright, he couldn't be too late, not now, he shut his eyes and whispered a desperate prayer to whichever God he thought could be listening, '_for fuck's sake don't let me be too late.'  
_


	8. Move Toward The Light

**A/N**: Can't help but write Marie/Rogue as a hard hearted bitch, maybe its just a reflection of me :-) 'Cos I have to be one mean bitch to leave you with a cliffhanger like this...

**Part 8- 'Move Toward The Light….'  
**

_She was drowning…Oh God she was drowning, everything was dark and black, and there was nothing out there, nothing except the water she was drowning in, the water she was dying in._

_Every time she opened her mouth to scream, it filled up with the acrid liquid, choking her, burning the back of her throat, forcing the air out of her lungs, pushing her under. Her arms felt leaden, her legs were heavy, and she felt like a dead weight._

_And then there was the light, what did they always say…move toward the light, head for the light… _

_The light would end it…it would make the pain stop, she would be free… _

* * *

He had driven like a man possessed for the rest of that night, Marie had slipped into unconsciousness. She lay on the cot in the back of his truck, her skin pale and her lips turning an alarming shade of blue. 

She was breathing, only just, he had leant in close, her chest barely rose and fell, and at it was at that point that he'd hit the gas pedal and had not looked back since. He knew they would come after her, and maybe him as well now, they'd invested too much to let her go.

For some reason Marie was important, was vital to the plans of men in Kevlar jackets and their superiors whoever they were. The scars from the needles lay clear on her arms, deep ugly welts, marks showing their determination, what had they injected her with?

And what would have happened if he hadn't gone back, if he had just kept driving, where would they have taken her, and what would they have done? He shuddered at the thought; he had come so close to losing her for good, he glanced back to her body lying so still, it scared the hell out of him realising that he might still do.

* * *

_She hated green, hated it, fuckin' green… that damn bright green florescent light shining down on her made her squint. Hurt the back of her eyes, and she couldn't look away, move toward the light…_

_She took a step forward and stumbled…tripped over her own feet, landing hard on her knees, her bare knees, and looking down she realised she was on the floor of some sort of box. A cage of glass, she was suspended from the ceiling in a clear glass box, it was a small prison, she could touch all four walls if she barely stretched out her arms._

_Bare arms, bruised skin, ugly deep welts marked every inch of skin and she grew nauseous. She struggled to her feet, glad to see she wasn't completely nude; two thick strips of material covered the important parts._

_It was so damn dark; the harsh green light that shone seemed to illuminate her prison alone, everything else was black, she pushed against the glass, pounded against it angrily. Her fists beat harder and harder, but it was no use, she only bruised and cut her knuckles._

_The already pained skin opened up, blistering and bloodied fingers; she scratched them down the length of the glass, desperate and afraid, beaten and bloody. She sunk to her knees; all her effort drained the last of her energy, and she fell to the floor, her aching head bowed and her knees drawn to her chest._

'_Marie…' She gasped, looking up suddenly and around her, she shook her head, not sure, not certain, but believing somehow, somewhere she had heard that voice before._

_A familiar voice, a comforting voice, but where...where was it coming from? Was there someone else here, another prisoner, another trapped and afraid…? She jumped to her feet, vainly looking out into the vast emptiness, trying to adjust her eyes to the darkness out there._

_Where are you…who are you…?_

* * *

She awoke at last with a choking gasp, sat bolt upright and then wished she had taken her time. The sickness returned, her stomach churned, as she lowered her feet slowly to the floor, looking around her, not at all unsure where she was. 

The back of someone's truck, the back of someone's life more like, a basic sleeping cot, the one she'd just been sleeping in, a bag of clothes shoved to one side, and some tinned foods clattering around.

She craned her neck and turned to look at the driver of this little makeshift home, Logan. Her head pounded and her vision was a little blurred still, but there was no mistaking that head of hair, or the smell of that cigar that he was chomping.

The bright sunlight streamed in through the windscreen and she squinted against it, the harshness of it all sent her flying back to her visions, _move toward the light…  
_

She groaned as another wave of nausea hit her, grasping her stomach she called out to him. 'Stop…'

He met her eyes in the rear view mirror, looked at her a while, jus' makin' sure, before shakin' his head, 'Can't do that…have to keep goin'…'

She grew angry, either he stopped or whatever she ate last was gonna make a second appearance right here on her feet and all over the back of his truck, 'Hey jack-ass, ya either stop this truck or ah'm gonna be addin' to the already funky smell back here…'

He met her gaze once more, before pulling over to the side of the road, she pushed the back door's open before the truck had even stopped and rushing to the side of the road fell to her knees.

She heaved, bracing both her hands on the grass and emptied the contents of her stomach, the cramps her stomach muscles endured were unbearable, her whole body shook as she half-kneeled and half-lay in the grass.

Logan came to stand close to her, leaning against the truck, he watched her as she struggled, she was alive, and he breathed a sigh of relief, she was still pissed off but at least she was alive. He had wiped the sweat from her brow for the past day and half, wondering hoping, praying that she would wake up.

It was a long drawn out process, her fever broke slowly, gradually the colour had returned to her lips, and she began to breathe easier. And because of that he began to breathe again, releasing the breath he'd long been holding, learning to allow hope into his heart once more as she seemed to make the small steps to recovery.

But his pace with the truck had not slowed, he kept to the back roads, the country tracks, rough terrain, in order to keep out from underneath their radar as long as possible, as long as it took for her to at least wake up.

And now she had, she was alive.

He watched her struggle to her feet, pulling herself up, spitting her mouth clean and looking around her, she barely glanced at him before she started walking; she took slow measured steps in the opposite direction of the truck, heading back along the deserted road, back the way he had come.

She was walking away again, walking away without looking back. He shook his head; let her struggle a few feet before he fell into step behind her. He kept his distance, but he couldn't, wouldn't let her go, not again.

'Where are ya goin' Marie…?' He called out after at last. She didn't answer, just kept walkin', he got angry, for fuck's sake, jus' how stubborn could one girl be?

'You can't go back there Marie, ain't nothin' for ya back there, not anymore.' She stopped at last, didn't bother turning around, and couldn't bear to admit that he was right.

'Ya don't know that, they were ma friends…it was home.' She barely whispered the words, home…

He scoffed, 'Come on Marie, even you know that's a load of bull, they weren't ya friends, they set you up…' His words were deliberately short, intentionally painful.

'Fuck off Logan, ya don't know what you're talkin' 'bout!' She turned around at last, angry and shaking.

'Oh yeah? Think 'bout Marie, who was the first guy you met, the first friend you made, who kept you there, kept you close. Always listened to you, was always there for you, found you that job, helped you out…'

Her eyes grew wide, 'Joe…' Her first friend, the guy she'd shared her misery with over a beer, the guy who'd got her on her feet, got her that job.

And all along, he was…he had betrayed her.

There was no home, no place to call her own, nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, she was alone all over again.

Her strength was fading, but she had to get away, from him, from this, to let this go, let me crawl in a ditch…leave me alone, don't wanna be helped no more, don't wanna be hurt no more. Let me throw this away, get rid of this shit hole that is my life.

She all but limped now, every step a painful dragging of the feet, she fought against the tears that were starting, she beat her clenched her fist against her thigh, don't cry, not now, hot here, not like this.

Ya can do this, ya don't need him, don't need anyone.

'MARIE!' He shouted, the menace in his growl clear, he was losing patience with her, for fuck's sake girl, jus' let me in.

'How far d'ya think you're gonna get huh? What d'ya thinks gonna happen when they find you again…what would've if ah hadn't come back for ya…'

She laughed, a bitter, short laugh that hurt even as the sound escaped her, she clutched her chest dramatically, 'Oh my hero…!'

He gritted his teeth, 'Look whether ya like it or not, ya need me…' she didn't give him a chance to finish before she turned on him.

'Need ya?' she spat at him, 'correction Logan, ah needed ya back then and ya let me down, so ya can excuse me if ah ain't lookin' for a repeat performance!'

She was right, he had let her down, but he was here, too damn late maybe, but he had come back, for her.

She tried to walk quicker, but it was all too much and barely a step later and she collapsed. Coughing away, Logan hurried up to her just as she started to heave again, she choked as the liquid left her system, her fists clenched tight as she fought to gain control.

They both stared at the patch of grass in front of her, she was spitting up blood, dark red spots covered the area.

She looked up at him, afraid and hurt, and he could only sit down in the grass beside her, they sat that way the longest while, the blood slowly drying, the pain a gulf between them.

'This has happened before hasn't it?' He asked her at last, she nodded, drawing her knees to her chest she looked like she had done all those months ago, on the Academy steps, alone and tired.

This time he could only hope he had the right things to say, that he did the right thing.

'Started couple months ago, ah'd black out, there'd be this pain, in ma head. It's like someone pushin' these knives into ma head, hurts like hell. Next thin' ah know ah'm wakin' up and ah've lost three days…' She sighed, 'and ah don't know what happens, it's like ah've lost time…'

He listened intently, Joe had said as much, '_This is the first I've seen of her in over three days…'_

'How long was ah out it this time?' she asked him.

'A day and half...' he looked at her as he spoke, 'Marie, ya should know ah'm takin' ya back, to the Academy…'

She shook her head, 'Forget it, no way ah'm going back there, no fuckin' way.' She struggled to get to her feet.

No way, she wouldn't go back there, back to where her heart weighed heavy, where she hadn't been wanted or need, where _he _hadn't wanted her. The Academy, the place it had all fallen apart, that place where she hadn't been able to put it back together, where none of the pieces fit the way she wanted them to, it was no place, no home.

'Ah won't force ya to stay there Marie…' he knew what she was thinking, knew that she had felt trapped there, was afraid of being caged again, chained to a memory, chained to a life that was miserable.

And he meant it, he wanted her to be safe, wanted so much to tell her he loved her, to be everything she had needed and more, but he wasn't going to force her into anything. Most of all he wanted her to live, whatever that meant for her, even if it meant that she would walk away again, when this was all over, he was willing to do it…let her walk away.

Because he loved her…, because it was what she wanted, not him, not this but to be free, free to hurt, free to give it away, free to break apart that heart of hers. Break it apart and fix it into something new, something different, never the same, because that took away the pain.

She had to find her own way, maybe if he was lucky, the hours would stretch into days, stretch into weeks and she would stay, just stay. Because he now realised too late, that his chance had come and gone, he loved her but he couldn't tell her, not now, and he couldn't have made her stay, it had to be her choice.

She had to choose to stand still, to leave her bags unpacked. Strange, those years she must have wanted the same thing from him, to hope that the hours would stretch into days, into weeks and into months, always on the edge, knowing that at any point he would leave, without so much as a word to anyone.

Now it was his turn to be on edge, hoping that once they got to the Academy the bags would stay unpacked.

'Ah jus' want Doc McCoy to look ya over, and make sure those fuckers can't get at ya…after that Marie; it's your choice…'

Your choice, even if that means I'm left with nothing.

* * *

She'd been asleep, sound asleep, peaceful without the nightmares when it had happened. Something slammed into the back of the truck and she was thrown from her cot. The truck skidded forward, propelled by the impact, it had been a cold night, and the Canadian border roads were iced over. 

The truck glided easily before its momentum halted and it came to an uneasy stop, and as she looked up from the floor, she could see the blizzard raging outside. Could see it and feel it as well, there was a gaping hole in the windscreen, exactly in the place Logan would have sat.

Logan!

The snow piled in, a bitter wind whistling through the whole vehicle. Damn stupid ox, ya would have thought being sent through the windscreen once in a lifetime would be enough to make the seatbelt someone's best friend, but not him, the same thing had happened to the dumb-ass twice.

She shook herself free of the blankets and made her way to the front of the truck, the winds whipped up her hair, she pushed it out of her face before settling into the driver's seat, she peeked out of the broken glass, looking for a sign of him.

She couldn't see him; she couldn't see very much at all, the snow had visibility down to just a few yards. He wasn't there, Logan wasn't there. She was aware of the panic that rose in her chest, the constricting heart, the blood running cold, _where are ya, ya dumb ox?_

She'd began to think they'd run into another tree, and that was the reason they'd crashed in the first place, it was only when the heavy duty black SUV scraped past the truck, rocking it from side to side that she knew what was happening.

They've come for you Marie, and you're all alone.

She heard the skidding of their tyres, saw their rear taillights disappearing into the storm, before it stopped and swung around to face her. The strong headlights beamed, she placed a hand over her face shielding her eyes, the SUV's windows were tinted, and it was all black.

But she was sick of this shit, something in her snapped, she stared at the truck, stared straight into the tinted windows and smiled, she was tired of playing everyone else's game, games where she didn't know the rules, _fuck this, _she thought_, ya want me, come and get me ya bastards.  
_

She threw the gears into reverse, and floored the gas pedal, Logan's truck lurched into action, the tyres skidding furiously, the rubber burning as the truck flew backwards. She hit the brakes hard, and came to a screeching halt.

Marie waited having put at least a couple hundred yards of road between her and the black SUV. They weren't moving, but she was, she rammed the gears hard and forced the truck forwards, her foot pressed flat against the floor as she pushed the truck for all it was worth. She smiled wider when they moved forwards as well, she wasn't going to change course, and it didn't look like they were gonna get out the way either.

* * *

Logan looked up having crawled up from the steep embankment, his claws embedded from the dirt as he'd tried to stop himself sliding further down the side of the road. He had heard the screeching of tyres, and had seen the black SUV flying past, Marie! 

He was still watching when his own truck came speeding past but going backwards! He watched as Marie smiled, turned to look at what she was heading for, his eyes widened as he watched the SUV move forwards as well.

He screamed out for her to stop, but she didn't hear him and if she had she wasn't listening, crazy ass bitch was going to play chicken with a truck that was bigger and stronger in every sense of the word.

She was going to get herself killed, and it was then he realised she just didn't care…

He watched in horror as she yanked the handbrake up, pulled the steering wheel and threw his truck into a ninety degree turn directly in the path of the oncoming SUV, saw

the metal of the trucks come together, saw his vehicle crushed like a tin can, saw the sparks fly, the momentum from the heavy duty SUV carrying both trucks down the road.

The noise, God the noise was unbearable, the screeching and desperate grinding of gears as the driver of the SUV fought to gain control of his truck.

But the ice on the road carried them forward and they slammed into a tree, his truck bearing the force of the impact, it was flattened against the large fir, pinned and ripped to shreds.

'MARIE…!'

The scream ripped from his throat, as far as he knew she was still in that truck, he began to run, he had to get her out, she was still alive, somehow she'd managed to survive even this.

But he barely got within a few metres of the wreck when his worst nightmare played out, the trucks blew up…! He was lifted off his feet from the blast, slammed into the floor and was forced to watch helplessly as a massive fireball shot high into the air…


	9. The Nights And Hands That Shaped Me

**Part 9- 'The Nights And Hands That Shaped Me…'**

Marie knew she had to time it just right, too soon and the SUV would have simply swerved past the truck, too late and she would have been trapped inside, pinned against that tree and burnt alive.

She'd waited until the last minute, throwing the truck into an angle she had reached for the door handle, kicked the door open and thrown herself out. She landed hard, the momentum from her jump keeping her rolling, down the embankment, over the piles of snow and eventually slamming hard into the base of a tree.

The impact knocked the breath out of her, she could feel the cuts above her eye open up again, as well as new bruises, fresh scratches that had torn at her face. She tried to sit, pulling herself to her knees; she became aware of the sudden acute pain in her left shoulder.

Reaching tentatively she probed with her fingers, her shoulder was badly swollen, the entire left side of her arm throbbing, she rested her back against the tree, her hurt arm held limply by her side. She watched the truck explode, and above the wind, above the fierce howl of the storm thought she had heard Logan's pained voice carry over to her.

He was alive, she had thought the worst when she couldn't see him, the hole in the windshield sent her flooding back to her memories, and tonight she had almost reverted to that same scared girl she had been when she had first met Logan. Trapped in that car, the first time Magneto had come for her, and then she had looked to Logan for a rescue, straining against the seatbelt that wouldn't come undone, and her breath escaping in shallow, panicked gasps as she fought for her life.

And she had heard his voice, screaming at her to get out of the truck before it exploded, that voice filled with such concern, fear and helplessness, he had looked on, unable to save her, unable to do anything but watch as she cried out for help. And she knew then in those few moments how much she would come to rely on him, how it would be that he would save her life more than once.

But tonight, she hadn't let the fear take over; she hadn't sat in the truck screaming for a rescue, she had known almost instinctively what to do. Time to save your self Marie, five months had taught her more than she'd believed possible, she was stronger than she'd ever been, no more needing, no more screaming for Logan.

She closed her eyes and pressed her head back against the tree, nights alone, days spent bitter and hating her past had taught her not to look back, ya don't need them Marie, don't need anyone. She'd proved that to herself so many times, the life she had lead so far, the hard drinking, the nights with strangers, the not caring, she had been able to survive and she would go on surviving, despite the SUV's that came after her, despite the Kevlar jackets, and the false friends who betrayed her.

And despite Logan, she would survive; she was Marie D'Ancanto, so many things, but not a lost little girl anymore.

She smiled to herself, even as the entire left side of her body ached, she smiled, her eyes drifting close she felt her body sag, she needed to sleep, to rest, just to be left alone. Clutching to the hope that it was over, that sunlight would come, a bright sun would break through this storm and she would be free, a soul as unburdened and as light as a bird set free to sail high in the winds.

The snapping of a twig close by soon brought her back to reality, she wasn't going anywhere. Her eyes flew open and she looked around her, the snow piled into her face and she struggled to her feet.

It was instinctive, a reflex she didn't even have to think about it, she careened to her left, throwing her body to the ground and out of the way, because somehow, through some insane reason she had known the air that whistled suddenly past her ear, the sharp screech that exploded past her wasn't the storm, but a bullet.

A bullet fired from a gun, a gun held by another Kevlar jacket, another soldier, another that had come for her.

* * *

Logan shook his head in disbelief; it couldn't end like this, for fuck's sake, not like this. She couldn't be in that truck, she had to have survived, even as the flames reached far into the sky she had to have survived, she was Marie. 

Little Marie, the girl he'd loved, the girl he'd let down so many times, the girl he had let down now. Where was the justice, the chance for redemption, the hope of better days after this? What had he done, wasted so many days, wasted so many chances, afraid, filled with a fear of this very thing.

This thing, that he would love her, but it would not be enough, that his love, his protection would not be enough. It had not been enough when Magneto had come for her, when he had killed her in that machine of his, and it had not been enough now. Whatever he was, Logan…Wolverine, he had not been able to stop this from happening, to stop this insane path of misery.

He dropped to his knees, grief and pain overwhelming him at last, a growl came, a low guttural utterance that grew, grew into a moan and eventually a howl, of despair and misery. He mourned her, Marie D'Ancanto, so many things, but now dead and gone….

* * *

Marie limped miserably further down the embankment, there were two of them, another two that had seen the fire from the first SUV, had seen her roll onto the side of the road, and who had followed her to finish the job that was started. 

They didn't intend to kill her, she had realised she was too important, they needed her alive, slightly broken perhaps but alive. The gunshot had been intended to scare, to make sure she ran in a certain direction, down the steep bank, away from help, away from Logan.

It was a trap, they were laying a trap for her, one would follow her down making sure she heard his step close behind her, the other would be silent, he would flank her from the left, cut a wide arc through the trees, running almost parallel to her, until at the very last moment when she thought she had outrun them he would appear. Right in front of her, cutting off an escape route, they would trap her, an animal caught in their snare.

But she was Marie D'Ancanto, and she was better, a better hunter, a far more elusive prey than they knew. She would escape their trap, she would out manoeuvre them, but how…how did she know?

Where was this coming from, the instinctive knowledge to ram the SUV on the road, the being able to read their tactics, she was Marie D'Ancanto, but she was not, there was a knowledge, memories imbedded within her mind that were not hers. This confident running from threats, this knowledge that if she suddenly cut through the clearing ahead of her, and flattened herself against that tree, she would be in his blind spot; all this was awareness that seemed almost intrinsic to her.

She didn't even have to think about it, it was there, more than the simulations that were ran in the danger room, more than all her training with Logan, the comprehension was there before she even knew it; it was like second nature to her. It was almost as if she had done this before, and a voice, voices spoke in her head.

That voice, in the glass cage, beneath a blinding green light, that threw everything else into darkness.

'_Marie…'  
_

_Where are you…who are you?_

She waited, flattened against that tree she held her breath, within her fingers she clasped the thick stump of a broken branch, her good arm was drawn back and ready, she counted the steps as he halted and checked his bearings…closer…closer…

Three steps…

Two now…

One…

Steady, he was just where she wanted him, she stepped out from behind the tree, her arm swinging, she was a brief flash before his eyes, she was Marie D'Ancanto, better than you can ever know, stronger than you will ever know.

The wood connected solidly with the soldiers jaw, she saw his head turn at an awkward angle, saw the blood pour from his lips, and heard him mumble his surprise before he slumped to the ground.

She threw away the wood, her hair whipped around her as she stared down at her hunter's lifeless body, blood from the cuts above her eye trickled down her face, mingling with snow and dirt already stuck there, working its way into the scratches.

The cuts, the bruises…she was Marie D'Ancanto, and more…she was others, she was them all, every one you ever trapped, everyone you forced into those glass cages, every one you blinded by that God-awful green light…she was them all.

'_Who are you…where are you?'_

_We are here…we are you… _

* * *

She reversed their trap, the other, the one who had run parallel to her in an attempt to cut off her escape route, he was trapped now. He had reached the far end of the embankment, but his colleague had not chased their prey down here, he was alone, with only the trees crowding in on him, the snow blinding and the dark pounding at his eyes, he was lost. 

She watched as he looked around her, the confident air of a soldier gone, she could hear his erratic heartbeat over the howling of the wind, could smell his fear, the hand that had his gun drawn was shaking.

She stepped up to him quietly, her footsteps sure over the deep snow, her stance never wavering, her way clear, she was more, so much more than they could ever know. She was behind him in an instant, but still her approach had been silent, stealth an art form she had seemingly mastered as quickly as she had acquired it.

He hadn't known she was there, she raised her foot quickly and brought it down hard in the back of his knee, her heeled heavy boots struck hard and he crumbled to the ground, opening his mouth to utter a guttural scream.

The wail of pain was lost in the screeching winds, he clutched at his kneecap, her force had snapped the leg in two, and she could make out the bone jutting from his trousers. He raised his gun to fire, she looked at him steadily, unmoving and unafraid, her heeled foot was lifted once more, and she finished him off with a roundhouse kick to the head that sent him stumbling back to the ground.

She picked up the gun he had dropped, the cold metal gleamed and fitted neatly into the palm of her hand. She looked at it closely, recognised it instantly, how, how did she know?

It was a Glock 21 six round, she emptied the chamber and watched the contents fall into her hand, hollow tip bullets, she knew the damage these things to do, and it was a sudden piercing pain in her chest that told her she had felt it once upon a time.

The full metal jacket of a bullet went straight in and out of a body, clean entry and exit wound, but these things, hollow tip bullets opened up once inside a solid object, the damage they caused was deadly, the pain indescribable.

And yet it was as if she knew, as she turned and aimed the weapon at the head of the fallen soldier she knew, the pain, the feel of this thing ripping up inside you, the feel of this bullet as it hit your chest as it tore open the cavities, deadly pain.

It was as if she had felt it…she knew.

_ Where are you…who are you?_

_We are here…we are you… _

* * *

He heard the gunshot, he had seen the second SUV parked at an angle and he had rushed blindly to where it stood, the doors thrown wide open the soldiers long gone, and he followed their scent, blind hope flooding every one of his senses, he was right she was alive, and if he knew it, they knew it as well. 

He found the first one, his head a bloody pulpy mess, Logan had stepped over him with disdain, knowing always knowing there was a second soldier out there, hunting her, hunting little Marie.

The gunshot resounded through the trees and acted as a homing beacon for his attuned ears, he stumbled into the clearing, only to find he was too late.

Marie, little Marie had dealt with the problem, he saw her tuck the gun safely away, lifting her shirt she pushed the weapon down fitting it snugly between the material of her skirt waistband and the small of her back, before pulling her shirt back down and concealing the gun.

He approached the second soldier tentatively not sure of what he would find, she hadn't killed him, he was out cold, but he was alive, Logan breathed a sigh of relief, she hadn't crossed that line, not yet.

He watched her as she walked, one arm hanging uselessly by her side, he moved to help her, to curse her for her stupid stunt, to hold her, to do…anything, but she just kept walking, it was as if she wasn't there at all.

He watched her struggle up that embankment it was only when she reached the SUV that she stopped, throwing her back against the black truck, she sunk to the floor. The blood had dried and it stuck to her face, mixed with the dirt she looked as if she had been in a war.

Logan stared deep into her eyes, she wasn't there, her expression was vacant, and Logan wondered if that was where she was, in a war…somewhere in there Marie was fighting, still fighting for survival, for a right to be free.

He knelt in front of her and took a hold of the top of her damaged arm, her expression changed at last, her eyes grew tired and she smiled gently at him, there she was, the girl he had thought was long gone.

He gently prodded at he shoulder and she winced, 'is it broken?' she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

'No…dislocated.' He replied, feeling his way along the top of the bone, he came to the joint and gently pressed just to make sure.

'Dislocated huh…well ain't that a bitch…' she shrugged, and rested her head back against the door of the truck.

'Look…Marie I have to set it back in place before the joint swells up too much, this is gonna hurt…'

She chuckled lightly, 'What more than dislocating it in the first place?'

'Probably, ya might wanna bite down on somethin'…' he advised her gently, before looking around for a piece of wood anything to stop her clamping down on her tongue when he set the arm back in place. He'd seen men chew half their tongues right off when bones were being set, the excruciating pain blinded them to anything else but crushing their teeth together.

She clasped his arm with her other hand and held tight, he turned to look at her, that cold, hard look was in her eyes again, 'just get on with it Logan, ah'll be fine…'

He nodded at last, reluctant but knowing there was no point arguing with her. He gripped her forearm tightly, with his other hand he took a hold of her shoulder, he braced himself, took a deep breath and whispered, 'on three….'

'THREE!' she screamed for him as he pushed the arm up and back, he heard the pop of the joint setting back into place and only then let go of her arm.

A fine bead of sweat had broken out on her temple and her eyes drifted shut, he caught her just before she hit the ground, she was burning up again, the fever had returned and she was out cold.

He prised open the back doors of the SUV and carefully set her down on the backseat; ripping off his own jacket he placed it gently over her. Slamming the doors shut he raced back to the drivers side of the car, stopping he reached beneath the truck, felt along the under chassis, along to the rim of wheels.

He found what he was looking for at last, a small black box, barely matchbox size; it had a small green blinking light in its centre.

GPS tracking system, they always hunted in packs, and as far as he knew more would come, more soldiers, more guns, taking the device he crushed it between his hands, bits of plastic and wires crumbled to the floor.

He climbed into the truck and started the engine, driving past the burning wrecks that were his truck and the first SUV he shuddered with the memory, knowing how easily it could have been her.


	10. Collateral Damage

_A/N: Those military types don't ya jus' hate 'em..._**  
**

**Part 10- 'Collateral Damage…'**

His heavy boots crunched over the deep snow, the powder embedding deep within the treads of the soles. He walked slowly, purposefully, surveying the scene laid out before him; the burning SUV had acted as a beacon for every civil authority this side of the Canadian border.

General Arrington, bent low close to the soil, his sharp eyes scanning the ground before him, the body of one of his soldiers lay under a tarp sheet, it fluttered slightly, the edges caught in the breeze, and his eyes were drawn to the bloodied head. The hair was matted with red and stuck to the now discoloured snow.

He stood slowly as the jeeps of the local law started and drove away, and watched as his second in command hurried over. His long coat was pulled tightly closed, none of them wore their military colours or uniform, this was strictly a black-op; everything was to remain under the radar.

But some explanation had now become necessary as the officers were the first to arrive on the scene. He had entrusted Lieutenant Bishop with the task of dispatching the law with all the answers the boys in the badges could need, the lieutenant had done a good job, simply stating that the whole incident with the burning trucks and dead soldier was a military exercise gone wrong.

It was a military affair and did not come under the jurisdiction of any police authority, and the military would appreciate it if the appropriate measures were taken to ensure that no further interference arrived, the matter would be cleared up, the mess removed. Nobody needed to know a thing, and as a last word Bishop had stressed his point of just what would occur should a breach in confidence ever take place and the story somehow ended up on the front page of the press.

His warning to the law officers had been issued with a smile, but the cold menacing intent behind them was more than clear.

Lieutenant Bishop sidled up to his superior; his shoulders hunched tight, a vain attempt at keeping out the cold, damn Canadian weather, no wonder Joe had wanted out of here so bad. He followed the General's gaze towards the body lying under the covered sheet.

'She made one helluva mess, our gal's growin' up fast.' General Arrington muttered under his breath.

Bishop looked up at him, the general's military record spoke for itself, but he'd never get over just how intent and cold this man could be, how callously he regarded one of his own unit and how hell bent he was on getting his hands on Marie.

It was an unnerving passion, a madness of some sort; he'd risked everything to take her, three fallen soldiers, the entire programme jeopardised, but still he pursued her like an obsession, a man possessed.

And in the same breath Bishop could almost understand it, Marie D'Ancanto was something that could prove a valuable asset, a secret weapon the military could not do without, her mutation was incomparable, the potential unforeseen.

'The cycle was interrupted half-way sir, we've no idea how dangerous that could be, she woke up before the usual three days into the treatment and unless the programme is completed we may lose her altogether…'

Bishop spoke low and clear, but it seemed the general wasn't even listening. He walked around the body fascinated; crouching low to the ground again he lifted the tarp and stared into the soulless eyes of the dead man.

He smiled, he actually smiled, Bishop looked away, he'd seen bodies before, and as far as he was concerned they were nothing to smile about.

'She reversed their trap,' he whispered, 'they probably chased her down from the top of that embankment there…' Arrington got up and walked up the hill, stopping and making his way back down.

'Its pitch black,' he seemed to be recounting the events of last night, running them through his mind like it was a movie, 'what visibility there is the storm has shot to shit, she's running, she knows there's gotta be more than one, maybe she catches a glimpse of the other one in the trees, a flash in the corner of her eye, she knows they're gonna try and cut her off.'

He walked back to the body, walked around the tree and pressed himself against it, 'Instinctively she knows what she's gotta do, stop running turn and fight, but fight smart, hit back with the mind, the thinking of a soldier, here, she knows the guy behind her, this is his blind spot, all she has to do is wait.'

Arrington tapped the side op his head, 'She doesn't stop to think about it, doesn't question where it's coming from, only knows its there, and she takes this guy down.' He pointed to the tarp, 'a seasoned soldier, she takes him down Bishop, 19 year old kid, takes down a guy, a guy that's armed and trained.'

He laughed outright, 'we know the treatments working, the conditioning…' he tightened his fists and punched the side of his leg, 'its working better than we could have hoped.'

Bishop tried and failed to appear as enthusiastic, 'But now we can't find her, and there's the small problem of Logan, he must know by now, what're we gonna do about him?'

The general was unfazed even by that, 'Well lieutenant that's what comes from a General's sort of thinking, you really believe I hadn't assessed the risk Logan posed? I studied your files inside out Bishop, I know just about everything there is to know about the man. I even contacted some of the original participants in that programme, those that are still alive. I knew about Logan, that's why I gave the go ahead.'

Bishop looked up at him puzzled, 'Three soldiers sir, a damn good operative in Joe, all lost, avoidable losses sir, you gave the go-ahead even when you knew the risk?'

Arrington smiled, 'Like I said Bishop, a General's sort of thinking, always three steps ahead, I knew Logan would get to her in time, he's so predictable, he'll play the hero in the not-so-shiny armour, and he'll take her somewhere he thinks he can look after her, the one place he trusts.'

'Back to the Academy…?' Bishop suddenly spoke up in realisation, three steps ahead, had that been his plan all along, to take on the entire mutant school? He didn't doubt Arrington would raze the place to the ground to get Marie back, and he'd do a damn better job than Stryker had.

A military mind, the goal, the objective would be reached, and Logan was doing them all a favour by heading back there, Arrington would relish the idea of killing two birds with one stone, the Academy and Marie, he'd take them both, to hell with the consequences, anything that happened to get in the way was collateral damage.

Collateral damage, if that was three dead soldiers or a school full of mutant kids, it would all prove worth it, in the end when they got hold of Marie, it would all be worth it.

'We don't know if she's going to make it sir, most of our experiments, our tests have been carried out under controlled conditions, with Marie being unconscious. We have no idea how the others will affect her now that she's awake, if she rejects and fights them, they could drive her mad, worse they could kill her.'

'And why would she reject them Bishop? They just saved her life, and even if she does, she's stronger than you give her credit for, she'll fight them, but she'll survive, and we can wait.'

Bishop met Arrington's gaze reluctantly, the General smiled once more, 'We can wait until it's necessary to start the cycle again, and by that time she'll be back at the Academy, in a months time she'll know what she has to do. There'll be no question; she'll have to come back to us.'

'And what about Logan…?' Bishop couldn't help but wonder just how risky Arrington's plans were, there were so many variables and so many things that could go wrong, if she wasn't as strong as the General believed, if she ended up getting herself killed, all this would have been a waste.

Months of experiments, of tests and various drugs all cultured for her particular mutation, the money spent, a black-op buried deep under layers of secrecy would be wasted, years of planning, months of implementing and all gone.

'Logan won't have a choice in the matter, he's gonna find that out soon enough, she isn't the girl he remembers, and pretty soon there isn't gonna be anything of that girl left. If this goes the way I know it will, he's gonna let us take her, otherwise she dies..., and he gets to watch her die.'

* * *

Logan had watched her wake up and slip back into unconsciousness again at least half a dozen times, she seemed to have shifted into autopilot. 

There was that time they'd stopped for gas, she had gotten up, climbed out of the truck and stood just watching the people that drifted in and out of the small diner to the side of the gas station.

She'd had one hand on the butt of her gun instantly, her hand had hovered on the handle of the Glock and he had watched as she studied each face, as she assessed each threat, her eyes narrowed her hand never straying too far from her weapon.

But it was all instinctive, they were in the last day of what would be her three day blackouts, and she hadn't seemed to wake up at all, just slipped into this state of semi-consciousness, aware of every threat that could be posed, but unfamiliar to everything else.

It tore at him, the way she stood there, Marie in appearance but nothing else, she was not there, not really. Something had gone wrong, something was missing, incomplete, and he couldn't shake the idea that it had something to do with the vials he'd seen Joe pouring into her.

Logan had tended to her cuts, managed to put together a make shift sling for her arm, she'd let him do all that, but she hadn't said a word, he'd tried talking to her, when her eyes had drifted open, and she'd stare at the roof of the truck. He didn't stop driving, they had a lot of road to cover, he talked over his shoulder to her, trying to get a response, but there was nothing.

Now she was sat next to him, she had climbed into the front seat of the truck, leaning back in the seat she pressed her head against the door window and closed her eyes. Her breath became shallow, and he had to strain, listen hard for the reassuring beat of her heart, he'd gotten in the habit of doing that, as long as he could hear her heart beating he could breathe.

Her shirt rode higher as she leaned to one side and his eyes drifted to the skin of her bare back, he snapped his eyes back to the road, his blood rising in his veins, he looked again and caught sight of her gun, tucked away neatly in the top of her pants, the handle was barely visible.

He thought back to the way she had looked holding that gun, in control, strong…dangerous. He'd never known her to handle a weapon, they'd covered guns in training, but only how to dodge bullets, not how to use one.

But she'd known, known instinctively, hollow and without remorse, that steel, cold hard look in her eyes, there'd been nothing else, just that knowledge that Marie was not really there.

He made a decision, reaching across, keeping one hand on the wheel of the truck, softly gently as not to wake her, he reached for the handle of the gun, his hand brushed against the milky whiteness of his skin. But she didn't move, his fingers almost grasped the weapon.

And just as quickly her eyes snapped open, the gun was in her hand and she jutted the weapon under his chin, the safety off, the weapon cocked, she brought her face close to his, keeping his eyes locked on her own.

She smiled, a cold hard smile, 'Ah hope you're planning on makin' this worth my while, especially if you're gonna make a habit of sticking your hands down my pants.'

He looked intently at her, 'Marie... you awake…?'

He held a breath, so many times she'd opened her eyes, seemingly awake but not really, her eyes opened but she was still held back in the dark, a semi-conscious state.

She smiled wider, pushing the gun further under his chin, 'What makes ya think you're talking' to Marie…?'


	11. The Better Half Of Me?

_A/N : The problem with voices in your head is they don't always leave when you want them to. And what happens when the strongest voice isn't on your side but is hell bent on getting you killed. Poor Marie, she just can't seem to catch a break...and also apologies in advance for the evil cliffie._

* * *

**Part 11- 'The Better Half Of Me…?' **

'_What makes ya think you're talkin' to Marie?'  
_

Holy Fuck! Logan heard the words, the soft spoken voice, the Southern lilt, but it was not her, not Marie, but then what?

His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, the gun was jutted tightly under his chin, he stared at her even as he pulled the wheel into a sharp right, and as the truck skidded to a screeching halt into a ditch at the side of the road, he stared at her still.

He gritted his teeth, 'Who are you?' he spat the words at her, this girl, in appearance everything he loved, everything he understood and everything he knew, but not her, not Marie, but something else, invader, violator…not Marie.

She smiled at him, a cold smile, devoid of any humour, devoid of consequence, she chuckled a little and her shoulders shook, the two-tone hair shaking loose, but the gun remained where it was, she was using it as a barrier to stop him getting any closer.

Stopped him touching her, stopped him short of knowing, knowing that the skin would feel the same; the hair would feel the same, but inside, inside it was not Marie, she was not there.

His heart constricted in his chest, and he struggled to contain the claws that itched to make an appearance, to tear this picture, to tear this scene apart, Marie…in appearance nothing more.

Chocolate brown eyes stared up at him, and he remembered the smile those eyes used to contain, the tears that had spilled, the sadness from her loneliness, when the skin was untouchable and the heart would not mend, broken, hurt and torn apart in so many ways.

There were holes in the soul of that girl, she had reached out for him but so many times he had fallen short, not knowing, not knowing how to begin, how to fix it for her.

That girl had decided to fix it for herself, had decided that she would pull it apart, and she would put it together, away from him, away from the life she had known, broken she may have been, but she'd been willing to fight for it and for a while she'd put it back together the way she'd wanted.

That girl had been real, that girl had been human…Marie, in soul, in spirit, in appearance and in everything else, making mistakes, choosing to believe in nothing, but she'd been human, behind those eyes…she was alive.

Now those eyes were darker, the stare vacant, the soul lost…the spirit gone.

'Who are you?' He whispered, the words barely forming, his tone bitter and hurt.

* * *

_'I'm here! For fuck's sake I'm right here! Why can't ya hear me…why can't ya touch me?'_

_She stared up from her prison, lying flat out on the floor of the glass prison she screamed and screamed, but nothing, the voice never returned and she was alone again, alone under a bright green light that burned at her very soul._

'_I'm here…I'm right here…'_

_She shut her eyes, the tears flowing from the shut eyelids down her cheeks and falling onto the glass. It was the only sound, in the bleakness, when the screaming was done and the pain would not ebb, it was the only sound, the tiny patter of soft falling tears._

'_Shhhh…' A whisper, a gentle whisper in her ear, and she opened her eyes, and stared into the face of a man with white hair, broad shoulders and hard set features. His hand reached out and brushed against her cheek, brushing the wetness away, it was a gentle touch but it promised so much more._

_She shuddered against it, the perverseness of his touch, it whispered obsession, spoke possession, and spoke of promises to come. She pulled away, her skin reviling at his caress, but she was bound._

_Her arms and legs were strapped to a steel gurney, thick straps that bound above her wrists and at her ankles. More straps held her at the chest and torso, she struggled against the confines, but it was no use, she wasn't going anywhere._

_They milled around her, the room was suffocating with people, heaving with bodies that moved around, eyes that stared, and hands that probed and took notes. She was on display, she was being readied, and she was being transformed. _

* * *

She took the gun away at last, held it in her lap and fingered the weapon gently; she caressed it with a tenderness that Logan found unnerving. Caressed it like an old friend, a lover, a lost soul coming home. 

'I won't ask again, who are you?' His voice ground out the words, bruised and battered sounds that ached over this nightmare that would not end, that betrayed the horror, the fear that maybe, despite all their efforts, for all his love, she was gone.

Marie was gone for good, '_forever just like ya said kid, but I don't think this is what ya meant.' _He shut his eyes, holding on, holding to that image of that girl, that love that had moved through his soul with all the force of a hurricane, as sudden and complete, it kept him sane, it kept him together.

'Who am I? Now that'd jus' be tellin' wouldn't it…Logan?'

Her voice was Marie's voice, a little deeper but with the same accent, with the same lilt. But he kept his eyes fixed on the road ahead, as long as he didn't look into her eyes, as long as he couldn't see the light fading he could keep the hope alive, she wasn't gone, she was here beside him, thing was he just had to fight a little harder to see it.

A sudden realisation dawned on him, her fighting spirit, that cold collected charm, that strength; could it be, was it?

'Rogue…?'

He heard her hitch a breath and he turned to look at her reluctantly; her face was set in a look of pained grimace, before she leaned over and spoke gently in his ear.

'Why, did ya miss me big boy?'

He stared at her, the ambiguous response to his question, the look that crossed her face screamed betrayal and pain, but she shook her head and Logan was confused and frustrated all over again. She settled back into her seat and poured all her attention back to the gun, she held onto it, a lifeline, the giver of death was clutched as if it was the very essence of her.

'Nope, not Rogue, stupid girl cut that part out, like it was a disease, a thing to be ashamed of, filthy, unclean, somethin' to be killed…somethin' to be cured.' She spat the words out as if they disgusted her to say.

Logan didn't know how to react, who or what was this?

* * *

_ She struggled to keep her eyes open; she could hear words and one name, a single name that kept being repeated, her name, Marie D'Ancanto._

_Images flashed before her, the life she had lived, the memories, a past that haunted played out beneath flashing coloured lights, hazy remembrances danced underneath heavy eyelids._

_They were forcing it out of her, the memories, who she was, what she had been, they were forcing it out of her, with their vials, the drugs, the poisons, the acrid black liquids they pumped into her, needles pushed into her veins as her own blood betrayed her and carried the venom through her body._

_They were making her forget, the Academy, friends she'd made, lives she'd left behind, parents, they were pulling it away, and she fought them, God she fought, thrashing wildly against the straps that bound, against the hands that clasped tightly. _

_She fought, struggled bitterly to keep it all within, a thousand faces flashed before her, smiling faces, faces stained with tears, screwed up in laughter, faces of the ones she'd lived with and loved._

_Loved…Logan…his face, the strong jaw, that familiar stubble, and the eyes, feral passionate eyes…_

_Hold on…hold on, hold it in. Logan…help me fight to hold it in. _

'_Can't, won't let ya take this from me,' but it was fading, slipping out of her fingers. They were fighting to make her forget, forcing her to let them go, the thousand faces, the thousand lives, the thousand memories._

_And she was forgetting, despite all her efforts she was losing, they were taking it all away, and in the fight to survive she was forgetting it all, leaving it all behind, becoming what they wanted her to be. _

_Hold on…hold on, hold it in._

_But how…how do ah hold on?_

* * *

'She was the best part of her, the strongest; the only thing worth remembering, but stupid bitch couldn't see it for what it was.' 

Logan growled, his claws inched out of his knuckles, snaking out silently, the anger at her words getting the better of him, 'Don't ya talk 'bout her like that…'

'Guess ah should know better than get into an argument with you, huh Logan, 'cos let's face it, ya sure know how to leave your mark on a girl.' She laughed loudly, and turned her face to the side, leaning up to the rear view mirror to inspect the bruise above her eye, the bruise that had come from Logan pushing Marie into the bathroom.

'That was an accident, ' he snapped back, suddenly wary of being on the back foot, he hadn't forgotten what he'd done, he had the visual reminder of it every time he looked at her, and he hated himself enough for it.

She smiled and scoffed, 'Sure it was baby, but ain't that supposed to be her line?' Her dark eyes bore into him, 'Your ability to settle an argument aside, why'd ya still care, she told ya to fuck off remember, do yourself a favour and listen to her.'

Logan snapped his eyes to her, she was staring at him, that cold hard look returned, utterly without compassion, without the light, without remorse. 'She needs me…' he spoke clearly but the words sounded doubtful even to his own ears, who was he trying to convince, her or himself?

She shook her head, 'She doesn't need ya sugah, she's got us…'

Logan's eyes narrowed and he fought the urge to grab her about the shoulders and shake her, the damn confusion 'bout this whole mess was makin' his head spin.

Us… What the fuck did that mean?

* * *

_She struggled through the sounds, the cacophony of noises that crowded in on her, a thousand voices all screaming at her, and she ran, pushing the darkness aside, her breath came in hurried, haggard gasps, fighting, fighting to get back._

_Back to what she remembered, and what she had once known, she remembered who she was, what she was, Marie D'Ancanto, not them, not the others but herself, just me. She pushed them aside, ghostly voices, ghostly arms that reached up to grab at her, to pull her back, into the waters, into the noises that drowned her._

_But she ached for it, fought for it, the peace of silence, the comfort in being alone, empty and alone, don't want anyone else up there, don't need ya, leave me alone…leave…leave_

_She gasped at last, a desperate gulping of air, when a drowning man finally breaks through the surface of the water and takes in greedy, hungry gasps of precious air, that was what she felt, she was free…Oh God, she was free._

_But she was not, not quite through the surface, not yet. She could see herself sat on the front seat of the SUV holding a gun under Logan's chin. And the screaming started all over again. _

* * *

'There's more than one of you in there?' Logan spoke at last, realisation coming to dawn on him at last, a punch to the guts and a kick to the teeth. 

She nodded, 'We saved her, in the woods, she learnt what to do through us, there are many of us, hundreds of us, poured into her, called upon when she needs us, saving her, keeping her alive.'

'Hundreds…?' Logan gasped, the number was unfathomable, one would have been bad enough, but hundreds, others, but then, where was Marie? Was she still in there; was there even room for her up there any more?

She saw the question that hung about his lips, that held in his haunted gaze, 'She's still here ya know, rattling around even though she's weak. Ya'd be proud of her Logan, she's fightin' ya know.'

The triumphant smile returned to her face and this time Logan did not hesitate, he grasped her about the shoulders, his fingers dug deep into her skin and he gritted his teeth, wanting to bruise, wanting to hurt, this thing, these things that had taken her from him.

Marie…Marie, are you really gone?

But in the same instant the gun was pointed at his stomach, pushing past the fabric of his shirt, cold metal meeting warm skin.

'Let her go Logan, let Marie go, nothing left but a hole where she used to be, she ain't strong enough to fight us all, she ain't strong enough to fight me.'

He brought his face close to hers, 'Sweetheart there ain't a cold day in hell that's gonna see me let go of Marie without a fight.'

The rage took over, if they had taken her, if she really was gone, he would take them. Rip them apart, until they gave her back, the Wolverine inside raged and saw red, they had taken his mate, and now he would take them, he would take them all.

He pushed her; with incredible force he pushed her out of the passenger door, she tumbled backwards, the gun was raised and she fired, he felt the bullet rip through his shoulder, the impact threw him backwards as well.

He watched as she flew out of the truck, the passenger door flying through the air with, he was pinned back against his own door, his head smashed against the glass and shattered it, and through the confetti of broken glass he saw her land with a hard thud, saw her roll down the embankment.

He pulled himself up and followed her out of the truck, his claws unsheathed at last, and his growl, of anger, of hate and revenge, a growl that was pure Wolverine rang through the still air and sent the birds scurrying from the trees.

He stalked his way down that hill after her, claws sharp and ready, his need for blood heightened.

* * *

_'No…NO! What are you doin', I'm here; I'm right here…stop!' Marie screamed up at him even as he towered over her, his claws catching the bright sunlight and blinding her.  
_

She saw him and she smiled, even as he pulled her up the claws digging into her flesh, ready to tear her apart, she smiled. 'Can ya do it?' She sneered at him, 'Can ya kill her, knowing she's inside, she's in here Logan, are ya ready to spill her guts?'

'LIAR!' He screamed at her, she was gone, you said she was gone. This is a trick, he raised his claws, arm tensed and ready, and he looked into her eyes at last, defiant eyes, chocolate brown eyes, darkened over, not a hint of compassion, no light, no life, she was gone.

Marie...I'm so sorry, my darlin' girl, I'm sorry.

_'LOGAN!' She screamed, Marie screamed at him, pushing past the voices, pushing past this thing that clung to her, this blackness, hold on…hold on to it, hold it in…I'm right here…I'm right here…'_

_And she saw it at last, the tiniest chink of light, the faintest spark, flinging her arm outwards she grasped at it…fighting to break through the surface…  
_

'LOGAN…!'


	12. Sweet Surrender

_A/N : Call me sick, but I kinda like the voice in Marie's head...LOL  
_

**Part 12- 'Sweet Surrender...'  
**

'Logan!' She screamed at him, and her voice carried through at last, his claws held merely inches away from her face, he stopped at last. Her scream resonated through the trees, punching through the air and carried away into an echo.

He stopped snarling and looked closely at her, her eyes were streaming with tears, but he saw her at last, Marie, his Marie, she had broken through, and it was she who was screaming for her life.

His hands faltered and his arms shook, as the horror of what he had almost done dawned him. The grip around her throat slackened and she fell to her knees, gasping and bracing her hands on the ground in front of her, she wept openly at last.

It burned, the horror that would not abate, the pounding in the back of her head that slammed harder and harder until the aching flooded all her senses and she felt herself drift away once more. Blinding pain that surrounded, pointed screams that gathered in momentum, her head hung low and everything ached, from her heavy limbs down to the tears that flowed from her pained red eyes.

She let her eyes shut heavily, the lids drooping languidly as she let the walls of her mind slip away, the blackness surrounding her once more and she felt herself pulled away again into that black, abject nothingness.

And she heard it again, the bitter unforgiving laughter, pouring out of the depths, _she_ was here, and at that Marie snapped her eyes open, her teeth gritted and she shook her head, shook herself back into consciousness.

Reaching up Marie gripped her hair tightly, lacing the strands between her fingers she tugged forcefully, focusing in on the sharp pain. But still _she _ persisted, the laughter and her voice honed in on her, a voice ripped from the depth of bitter nightmares and half memories, voices borne from the darkness and harsh bright green lights.

_ 'Look at that kid; you're right back where ya started, on your knees in front of him.'  
_

'Fuck off…' she screamed, tugging at her hair harder, 'jus' fuck the hell off and leave me alone!'

'_Uh-uh careful little girl, you're beginnin' to hurt my feelings, anybody would think ya didn't want me around…'_ she laughed and Marie shook her head.

Logan moved closer slowly, still unsure, he knelt in front of her and Marie could see his lips moving, could see him saying something, speaking to her in soft gentle tones but it meant nothing, she heard nothing.

It was a haze, the world flooded in a bright green light, so bright it pricked against her eyes and she blinked.

Afraid, Marie was so afraid to close her eyes; _her _ voice was strongest then, her laughter ringing, the hollow sound of bitter accusation rattling around, bouncing against the walls of her mind.

It felt so crowded up there, so many murmurs, rumours, whispers, but _her v_oice, her soft voice so much like her own but tinged with added menace, her voice resounded the loudest, like an incessant drum beat, thumping louder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Beating over the sounds of Logan's words, beating over the sound of her heartbeat, on and on…louder and louder, until Marie clamped both hands over her ears, fearing the sound would burst through, convinced her ear drums were bleeding from the insanity of it all.

Logan reached out for her, but she stumbled backwards and out of his reach, she could hear nothing, sense nothing, except this, the pain of having her inside.

'Leave…leave…' she whispered, 'please leave…'

'_You're makin' a mistake Marie, ya have to go back, go back to them, they'll take care of ya. They've always taken care of ya…'  
_

'Who…?' Marie spat out, 'who's gonna take care of me? Who are ya?' So many questions, she had so many things that needed answering, maybe in that lay sanity. Maybe with that she could learn to crawl back, fight for it, and get back to something of what she had been.

_'Ya know who…' _came back the reply, short and concise.

An image flashed through her mind, being strapped down to a gurney, being bound and looking up to see his face, a hard set jaw, white hair, the quiet air of authority, she could feel his fingers brushing against her cheek even now, gentle hands that brushed strands of her hair back, tucking the loose locks behind her ear.

Her eyes drifted shut, and despite the fear, the hollowness of a mindset slipping away, she felt comforted, not by the man, but by the touch. This touch that bespoke tenderness but strength, and resolve, protection, survival…here, here in this touch.

She opened her eyes slowly, to see Logan's fingers slowly trailing down her face, staring at her, his feral eyes narrowed in concern; he was pulling her back, reaching out and bringing her back from the brink. Catching her as she fell, arms steadied as she slipped, slipped in her faith but he was here…Logan.

_No…not Logan…!'  
_

Marie gritted her teeth, cursing loudly, she pushed Logan away and scrambled backwards, and still the sounds thumped louder and louder, an incessant noise that would not cease, an insistent drumming, beating at the far recesses, beating, breaking, battered and bruised.

'What d'ya want from me? Who are ya?'

Who are you to hound in on me like this, what should I do to hold on to what I am, how can I survive this, with you and the others in here, how can I survive without losing my fuckin' mind?

Have I lost it already?

For the longest moment the answers would not come, they were silent,_ she _was silent, and Marie wondered what she feared the most, the silence in between or the answers that were sure to come.

_ 'We are you, we are the darkest recesses of you, the anger, the fucked up memories, the hate and the rage that burns inside, the lust for death you carry, the murderous thoughts, the brutal, and the fucked up. All the parts of your soul you thought you could cut away, the part you wanted to kill, and the part you thought you cured…'  
_

Marie's eyes widened in horror, 'No, no you're not a part of me…no…no…NO!'

It couldn't be right, all the things she'd done since, all the life she'd lived since letting Rogue, since letting that part of life fall away, it had been for nothing, it had meant nothing if she had never escaped at all, not really.

But still she persisted, '_Yes, we are the part that has kept you alive; remember in the forest, when they came after you, who was there? US! We kept you runnin', showed you how, showed you what to do, come on Marie, you know I'm right.'  
_

Marie closed her eyes as the events of a few nights ago played like a demented movie reel in her mind, and she saw what she had done, saw the men she had killed, bloody messes that she'd left behind, the lives she'd taken.

_ 'See, ya know, its right there, what ya are…what we are. How else do ya think you managed to take on that SUV? What, ya think ya learned to handle a truck like that in drivers Ed?'  
_

And there it was again, the cruel laughter, the triumphant smile, the cruel knowledge that Marie really wasn't strong enough, that in the end all she'd put up was this pathetic fight, one last gasp at reality, one last throw at being the one in control.

The tears streamed down her face, and she attempted one last fight against the cold resignation of it all, 'Ya'll can't be a part of me, you're the poison in the vials, you're the cold comfort of death in the syringes, you are what they have made me into, you are what broke me, you are what they poured into me…'

_'No Marie, we are what they drew out of you, not what they poured in but what they finally unleashed. Why d'ya think they chose ya? But we can make you stronger than you've ever been, tougher, no one's gonna hurt ya again, we can make ya feel it…jus' let go, let us take over, let me take over, and I promise ya darlin' I'll make ya feel all of it and more.'  
_

Marie's vice like grip on her hair at last slipped, the promises, and the sweet seduction was a chink of light in all the darkness, _she_ offered so much, heal me, save me from all this pain and all this sorrow, and in return all I am asked to give is this body, this mind, this soul.

This battered and bruised body, this embittered soul, this pained mind and this heart, this aching that has suffered so much, to be strong, to be spared from all the suffering, to be free at last, was it really such a sacrifice?

She faltered, her mind drifted away, back to the sweet embrace, the promise of invincibility… just let it go.

Marie's eyes slammed shut, no fear, no pain…just surrender, she must have swayed on her knees because the next thing she knew he was on his knees before her, holding her by the arms, steadying her, holding her upright. Logan grabbed her firmly by the sides of her face, prising her eyes open, he forced her to look, to stare into his eyes as he shouted her name over and over again.

Marie…Marie…just Marie, not them, not the others, Marie…can't let them take this from you; don't let them take this from you.

Sensing that something was ready to be awakened once more, a light reignited, a hope renewed, _she _pushed further, screamed louder in Marie's troubled mind, louder than Logan, louder than the thumping of an incessant beat, louder than everything else.

_'He hurts ya, remember how he pushed ya away, remember how he made ya feel, worthless, unwanted, unneeded, ya were willin' to give him everything Marie, he didn't want ya then, he doesn't want ya now…he's just holdin' ya back, he knows, knows what ya can do, what we can be…'  
_

Marie groaned, Logan he had always been closest, even when he had hurt her, even when she had walked away, he had been the one, the image that had kept pounding away at her, Logan…

_'No…not Logan…'  
_

She moved back further, pulling herself away, the single mantra pursuing her with every step, not Logan…not Logan. Her hands brushed against something covered in leaves, nestling behind her back, the cold hard metal of the Glock.

She ran her fingers over the chamber, the barrel, and the trigger, she stared hard at Logan as he approached still, her fingers moved instinctively over the safety, turning it off, and the gun was ready, primed…deadly cargo waiting to be fired. Hollow tipped bullets, screaming pain…bone shattering misery.

Marie could feel the smile playing on her lips, the steadiness with which she raised the weapon concealed out of sight from Logan who stepped closer and closer, unsuspecting he took the few steps that brought him within a few feet of her.

_'Do it…Marie ya can't trust him, shoot the bastard, there's gotta be a least a couple rounds left, empty them all, hit him right between the eyes…it'll keep him down, who knows maybe ya can take him out…DO IT!'  
_

Marie raised the weapon at last, bringing it up, holding it at arms length to catch him, to hold him in the cross hairs, straight down the sight of the barrel, aiming right between his eyes…

* * *

Marie gritted her teeth, the smile remained, cold hard calculating and Logan stopped short, he readied himself for what he thought was coming, Marie hadn't been strong enough, she'd lost and the others had taken over, _she _ had taken over. The girl he loved, the girl he knew was gone, and it was all he could do not to fall to his knees and beg for the same fate. 

His feet remained rooted to the spot, he watched her level the gun at him, and he stared past the deadly metal pointed at him, looked past it and into her eyes, and realised all at once something was different, there was a light, something was holding on, something…Marie.

She nodded at him, a slight inclination of the head, barely noticeable but it was a sign, I am here…I am still holding on.

And then he watched in horror as she slowly lowered the weapon, growling fiercely she raised it again, this time aiming it not at Logan but at herself! She pressed the barrel in the side of her temple, pushing it deep, holding it tight against the side of her head.

Willing and ready to blow her own brains out.

She looked at him all the while, the wild look in her eyes screaming at him to stay back, to keep away, she was in control and this was what she wanted.

* * *

_'What the fuck are ya doin'? Ya stupid bitch, don't do this, ya can't do this…!'  
_

It was Marie's turn to laugh, and laugh she did, a hollow manic sound that sent her entire body shaking, 'Careful little girl, anyone would think ya were scared…' she muttered to herself, the manic sadistic smile curling her lips.

_'Ya don't have it in ya…ya ain't got the balls Marie, you're nothin' without us…Logan was right 'bout ya, still that lost little gal, can't see what right in front of your fuckin' face…!'  
_

'Darlin' don't talk to me about balls, leave…!' Marie screamed, 'leave or ah fuck us all to hell!'

The silence seemed to go on forever, Marie's finger itched on the trigger, gently she eased the hammer back and this close to her ear the sound of the bullet slotting into its chamber resounded like an almighty roar.

Her answer came at last, a low chuckle, starting slowly growing at last into a throaty laugh, '_Feels good don't it Marie_? _Bein' in control, bein' the one holdin' all the cards, aces and spades darlin' but looks like you're still short of a full deck…'  
_

Marie's brow furrowed, and she couldn't help but chuckle along, 'You're one to be callin' me insane, guess ya can fuck the irony right?'

_'Think ah underestimated ya darlin', but we both know ya ain't gonna pull the trigger, fucked up little gal that ya are, ya ain't gonna blow your brains out.'  
_

Marie shrugged her shoulders, 'No?' Her finger jerked the trigger back, the hammer was pulled all the way, the bullet was settled neatly into its chamber and when the crack of the bullet leaving the chamber came, it came with a scream.

'Marie!' She shut her eyes against the sound of Logan screaming her name, the haunting sounds that cleared the trees in a single breath.

She shut her eyes against the sound of her now thundering heartbeat, and surrendered to the image of the bullet leaving the gun, burning hot metal coming to pierce her skin, to make the blackness permanent.

And Marie smiled as the voice inside her screamed,_ 'NO!' _

* * *

The bullet screamed through the air, precious nanoseconds it took for the deadly cargo to leave the chamber at a speed uncountable, torching the still air, and coming to embed itself deep…deep in the bark of a tree. 

She'd moved, at the last second she'd moved the gun slightly to the right, the Glock had spit out the bullet, whizzing past her face, screaming millimetres past her nose and coming to explode into the tree on her far right.

Time had slowed and she watched the metal spin past her gaze, it hit the wood with a massive impact, splinters flew far and wide, the damage spread like a wild flower bursting on the surface of the tree, rippling outwards, the hollow tipped bullet opening up once inside, maximum impact, maximum damage.

Logan screwed his eyes tight and reminded himself to breathe again, his heart was in his mouth, and he cursed her loudly when she stared up at him still smiling.

The Glock was an automatic reload; Marie simply lifted the weapon and pressed it against her temple, her finger hovering over the trigger once more. She seemed addicted to the madness of it all, confronting the voices that she had silenced at last.

'Guess ah've made my point, or do we need a second demonstration?' She whispered challengingly, 'cause the next time ah pull this trigger me and y'all are gonna have a long trip straight back to hell.'

_'Ya think you're pretty clever huh Marie? You're fuckin' insane, thing is ah kinda like that. Fine, ya got yourself a deal, we'll leave… but we ain't going far, we're in for the long haul baby, you and us, it's a match made in heaven.'  
_

'Whatever, just fuck off ya little shit…' Marie spat back.

_She laughed, 'You're gonna need us soon, and guess what darlin' every time, every single damn time we're gonna come screamin' back…' _

* * *

They sat in the truck, minus a door and a few windows, Logan stared out over the windscreen, staring out at the long road that stretched ahead of them. He gripped the wheel tightly, and breathed deep, he couldn't bring himself to look at her, Marie was back, but she seemed as far away as she had ever done. 

He had been ready to kill her, the Wolverine inside had been ready to claw her to pieces, it sure was one fucked up situation.

His voice hoarse and thick, he spoke quietly as she sat back leaning deep into the seat, her eyes shut tight. 'Marie, ah came so close, d'ya know ah almost killed you?'

She opened her eyes at last and turned to look at him, her smile, a gentle smile reassured him.

'Ah know Logan, but its fine, ah wasn't there, ya were right when ya thought ah was gone…ah nearly was…' she reached out and placed a hand on his arm.

'Besides sugah, its not like it would have been the first time, ya already killed me once before, remember…?' She placed a hand above her heart, it had seemed like a lifetime ago, that night he had plunged his claws deep inside her, caught in the midst of a nightmare he had killed her, ripped her heart to shreds.

His shoulders slumped forward, 'Yeah ah remember, how could I forget?' That night had haunted him, another nightmare to settle alongside the ones he already carried.

'Yeah, and ah killed ya twice over in return, so ah guess this makes us kinda even, unless ya plan on counting the bullet hole?' She asked him laughingly.

The tension in him eased at last, he flexed his shoulder, the injury from where she had shot him already healed.

They sat quietly for a few minutes more, Logan leant forward and started the truck, he let the engine warm up while he looked at her closely, she was staring out of the windscreen, her expression quiet, calm almost.

'Marie…are they gone…is _she _ gone?'

She turned to smile at him, 'Yeah Logan…she's gone.'

_'Liar…'  
_


	13. A Faith You Can Understand

_A/N: Marie decides to call a truce with the voice in her head to save what's left of her sanity...but can she really trust them?_**  
**

**Part 13- 'A Faith You Can Understand…'**

Marie shut her eyes tightly; the wind draft from the broken door blew in harshly and was making her eyes water. It had only been a few hours since she had put the Glock against her head and almost blown her brains out, since she'd struggled and overcome the voices in her head.

It had left her exhausted and at first she'd crawled into the back seat and slept soundly, curled up into a ball and forgotten it all. But it was cold and she'd woken up barely an hour later, shivering and wishing she had something to cover her bare legs with, Logan had unceremoniously thrown his jacket at her and she was huddled into that, but it made little difference, she seemed to be freezing from the inside.

No matter how tightly she wrapped her arms about herself, or how she drew her knees to her chest, she couldn't seem to shake the cold.

She threw her head back and sighed, what she wouldn't give for a drink, she needed to be in a bar again, drinking her own weight in beer, lining up shots and throwing them back, drowning herself in whiskey and generally pissing the night away.

Alcohol was good, it would make her forget like it used to, it was a faith she could understand, passed out and staring at the ceiling it was an old friend, the one that had always stuck around who had put a warm arm around her, a familiarity and a comfort.

A good ol' bottle of Jack Daniels would chase this cold away, God she needed a drink, she ran her tongue over her dry chapped and split lips, thinking she could almost taste the fiery warmth of an age old whiskey.

'_Hate to be the one to tell ya this darlin' but looks like ya got a problem, ever thought of callin' the AA?'_

Marie smiled quietly to herself, her eyes remained shut and she whispered inwardly speaking to _her_. 'So you're back huh?'

'_That's the thing 'bout bein' a raging schizophrenic kid, you're never gonna be lonely.'_

'Thought you'd only come back when ah needed ya, and that ya'd come back kickin' and screamin'?'

'_Yeah, 'bout that, figured ya could do with the company, like all meathead's Logan may be handy with his fists but ah guess he ain't so big on the conversations.'_

Marie looked over towards Logan; he was staring intently at the road ahead of him, his shirt ruffling slightly in the wind, and the tufts of his hair blown back by the breeze, they hadn't spoken since he had nearly clawed her to death, and since she had shot him in the shoulder.

He had saved her life; he was saving her that many times she was beginning to lose count, he had proved that constant, but she wasn't ready to give in yet, give in to those nagging feelings that told her she ought to forgive him by now, for his once upon a time rejection of her, that she ought to give in for all the feelings she had for him, but truth was she was still scared.

She would have run like a coward, from this truck, from this road and from him if she had anywhere else to go, she'd run and not look back, for so long she'd been filled with her doubts, the thoughts of being stuck, of being made to stand still again plagued her.

She hated the very idea of it, and she was scared, that he'd put her back together, that he'd been the one to fill a void, only to let her down again. At least when she fell apart, when she threw it away, when she walked away without looking back it had been a conscious decision, it had been her choice.

Letting someone else in far enough, even letting Logan in far enough to pick up the pieces was not an option she was ready to consider. In her darkest hours she had called for him, he had pulled her back and in those moments she was glad she knew him, but in the cold light of day it was all different. The defences were all up, walls, stone cold walls reaching high around her heart, and around her. She didn't want to be dependant on him again, not like she had used to be, to live like that again was no option at all, it hurt too damn much.

She leant back in her chair and shut her eyes, 'Leave Logan alone, ah was enjoying the peace and quiet, shame ya can't take the hint.'

_She laughed, 'What's the matter kid? Ya tuckered out, ya ain't fighting me like before?'_

Marie sighed once more, 'Yeah well, we both know the score by now right?' Her eyes drifted to the glove compartment, Logan had insisted they keep the gun locked away in there, and in the end she'd been too tired to argue, gladly putting the weapon away.

She'd do it again, so easily she'd put that gun to the side of her head, and pull the trigger, goodnight and goodbye.

But they had saved her life in the forests being chased by soldiers, they had shown her how; maybe just maybe they could give her what she needed, as long she could stay in control. It was a helluva risk, but Marie was determined to get the better of them.

'Maybe ah've decided it's better to have a voice up there that's jus' plain annoying rather than trying to drive me insane…'sides ah'm gonna need answers.'

'_Answers…?'_

Marie nodded, 'Yeah answers, and the truth this time.'

* * *

General Arrington leaned back in his chair, his feet were propped on the expensive mahogany table, and he looked around his bare office. The awards that ought to have been plastering the walls, the medals that should have been proudly displayed were instead shoved in their drawers, locked away in filing cabinets. 

He was a different kind of soldier; his pride came from the hunt and eventually the kill. And he was damned good at his job, he had hunted in just about every country in the world, and he had always gotten his prey in the end.

That was where his pride, the thrill, the sense of being alive came from, and he craved it. In the jungles, sweat pouring into his eyes, the humid air making it fucking impossible to breathe, that was when he had come into his own. He had still been young then, it seemed a lifetime a go, but in the beginning he had remembered every enemy soldier he had taken down.

Remembered because in that close combat, in that stifling heat he had made sure to look every damn bastard in the eye, so they knew when they looked up and saw, they knew who he was. They would stare into the devilish red of his eyes, crazed with the heat, crazed with the thought of another kill, they saw he would press the Beretta firmly against their forehead, smack bang in the middle, and he wouldn't blink, he never looked away, when he pulled the trigger, they would see, remember me, because I took it away from you, I dispatched you to hell.

The thrill was like something he had never known, something he never felt again, not until the next bastard he cornered. It became so he craved it, the hunt, chasing a single bloody minded objective, to find his man and kill him.

And his record was exemplary, beyond compare; he rose faster than any, his methods were unorthodox, crazy and just a little past the psychotic, but the army could never have too many crazed nut jobs, especially if they were fighting on their side. And Arrington was most definitely on their side.

This black ops had fallen almost inconspicuously into his lap, too much time in between wars had left him itching, had left him wanting, a junkie desperately needing a fix. He had heard of the mutant element, but had never paid it too much attention, seemed too much like chasing ghosts.

But then he had noticed Marie, little girl with potential, a mutancy like a sponge, and he felt alive again, a hunter chasing its prey. And she had made it so easy, willingly falling into the idea of a cure, practically handing herself over to them, to be cured, to be fixed.

The cocktail of drugs pushed into her system had worked remarkably well, other mutants, freaks of nature were being given a second chance but for Marie there was always going to be a different plan, she was too valuable; or rather her mutation was far too valuable to be wasted.

And then it had been the wait, the long impatient days waiting for the target to appear out of its hole, waiting for her to be isolated long enough to make her a sitting target. And inevitably she had done even that, choosing to cut the part of her life that had held her back, leaving the Academy, leaving them behind, running for the border and falling headfirst into their carefully crafted trap.

Falling headfirst into his arms, and he had taken care of her, those first few months when the procedures had been invasive he'd always stood by the side of her bed, watching as they pushed the needles and the drugs and everything else into her.

And those sneaky little touches he'd gotten, when the scientists were busy pouring over the bloods, or at their computer screens writing up their little reports he'd ran his hands against her skin that was deadly all over again, he'd feel it, the pull, the idea that she was drawing him in. Drinking him in, dragging him out piece by piece, it was like a slow death, and for some insane reason, because of it he had never felt more alive.

Better than the stifling jungles, better than the battle fields, better than all the medals and the congratulations, this girl was the ultimate weapon, the most beautiful death, the perfected killing machine.

And what would it be to have hundreds, thousands like her, weapons of choice, super-spy's, super-soldiers, mutants, the ultimate killing machine, perfection, a race, a breed of army beyond compare…conquerors, invincible and immortal.

* * *

Marie's brow furrowed trying to make sense of the conversation she was having, funny not so long ago they'd have probably put her in a strait jacket, hearing voices was one thing, talking to them was something fuckin' else. 

But _she_ and they weren't just voices; they were individuals, personalities, with traits and characteristics all of their own, they couldn't be a part of her there were just too many of them, she couldn't be split into so many pieces, broken in so many ways, because how in the hell would she ever be able to put it back together if that was the case?

How would she pull the strands together, could she pull them together, would she live long enough to? Thing was she doubted she was meant to.

'Tell me the truth,' she whispered, 'who are ya really? How did this happen, 'cause ah remember the glass cages, they're real, ah was in them, they did poison me, they did kill me.'

'_Ok kid, deep breath 'cause you're gonna need it. Here it comes, ya were taken, the three day hangovers, they were procedures, tests, designed to prepare ya…'_

'Prepare me for what?' Marie probed further, every word was a like a sledgehammer thudding in the back of her head.

'_To reach your potential, to be what ya were always meant to be, fully mutant if ya like…'_

Mutant…Rogue…Marie shivered at the thought of her other persona, the part of herself that she had hated for so long, the part that had kept her dead and afraid. She ached with the memories of a past that she had thought she'd finally been allowed to leave behind.

'How…how was ah supposed to become fully Rogue? What 'bout the cure…was that jus' a whole line of bullshit?' Marie's voice shook slightly betraying the emotion she felt.

'_Sorry kid, nothing but a hyped up placebo, yeah it worked for a while, it was and is a cure, but it's not meant for ya. Marie, they'd marked ya up long before that, like ah keep tellin' ya kid you're special.'_

'Yeah…' Marie murmured, 'and don't ah fuckin' feel it.' She sighed and her shoulders sagged heavy, 'but the cure, it's still holding, Logan has touched me and he's still breathing.'

'_The cure is an illusion Marie, only a temporary hold, think 'bout it. It was important ya had to believe that, it was the only way ya were ever gonna let anybody close to ya. It works in doses, once a month in between the three day cycle your skin is as deadly as it's ever been, ya just weren't around to know it.' _

_Ya absorbed so many of us, took in so much, but once they woke ya up, ya knew nothin' 'bout it, and ya weren't supposed to, not yet anyway._

Marie frowned, 'So how the fuck did ah end up with a head full of you?'

'_This last time was the final stage; ya were ready, almost complete, what went wrong is Logan, big dumb ox, sure knows how to get his size 10's in the way. But kid, ya have to wake up, ain't no use runnin' from this now, ya need it, ya have to go back, things have come too far for all of us…'_

Marie nodded silently, she knew, there was an inevitably to all this, she would only get so far, no matter how hard she ran, how much distance she put behind her, things had moved beyond being able to turn away, the changes inside her had been wrought too deep, something had been broken beyond repair.

She would have to go back, they would take her and she would have to let them. She turned to look at Logan, he smiled at her briefly before turning back to stare at the road. They had a month before the cycle started all over again; it was like a timeline hanging over them, tick-tick ticking away, time and the freedom she had fought so hard for.

She would have to go back, let them finish what they had started, or she would die. But she wasn't gonna roll over and give up, not this time, if they wanted her she'd make damn sure they worked hard for it.

_She chuckled, 'Ah was kinda hopin' ya'd say that.'_

'Oh yeah, ah thought ya wanted me to go back, let them take care of me?'

'_Sure, all in good time sweetheart, but meanwhile ah like the idea of a fight better, ain't nothin' like seeing blood spilt…'_

Marie smiled, a cruel smirk, 'Shit, you're a real comfort ya know that?'

'_Ah try kid, ah try…'_

* * *

General Arrington headed for the lower vaults of the mountain; his heavy boots thudded ominously over the cold stone sounds that echoed far and wide before being absorbed by the slate coloured rock. 

He stood stoically before the steel titanium doors before walking over to the keypad, he place his thumb on the small metallic plate.

'Fingerprint verified…' the female computerised voice droned before a small camera protruded seemingly melting out of the wall and beeping twice.

'Iris recognition required to confirm identity…' Arrington leaned forward and pressed his right eye to the lens, he waited unblinking as the retinal scan passed over the unique map of his eye.

'Identity confirmed…welcome General Arrington…' The steel doors glided open without a sound, the hydraulics working effortlessly. He passed through a further set of doors, before stepping into the pitch black of the vault.

Walking over to the only illuminated object in the room, a small computer console sat almost innocuously in the centre of the room he typed in a short command, a few seconds later a light blinkered overhead and the hiss resounded in the silent room as a glass object was lowered from the ceiling.

He waited until the glass cage was lowered completely to the floor and set down before him. He smiled at the figure sat inside.

'Good evening Professor Xavier…'


	14. Seeing A Man 'Bout A Car

_A/N: Arrington he's such a manipulative, cold-hearted bastard, but you have to hand it to him, the sick fuck has__ covered just 'bout every angle..._**  
**

**Part 14- 'Seeing A Man 'Bout A Car…'**

The instinct to survive is the most intrinsic base of any creature, animal, human or mutant, we fight for it, we struggle for it and in the end we sacrifice any scruples we have for it, we survive, we fight, and we kill, we do what we must to survive.

Arrington understood that better than any man, he had seen it so many times, in the haunted gazes of men, caught in a battle, caught in the middle of a war, with the bombs raining down, with hell raining down on them you can see them burning on the inside, eyes darting back and forth, fighting…killing…to survive.

You do what you must, Arrington knew that, you do whatever it takes, fight whatever scruples you have, hold back any reservations all in order to survive, the base nature of anything that lives or breathes, you wanna keep on living, you wanna keep on breathing.

He circled the glass cage slowly, watching as Xavier sat silently, his long fingers tapping together, leaning forward in his wheelchair his head bowed slightly. You fight all your scruples, even if that means taking over the body of another, forcing your mind into the body of a comatose man, violating his right to survive by enforcing your own.

Arrington smiled gently, even the saintly Charles Xavier had limits, a point at which baser needs took over. The general had read the report, had read what there was of the bald psychic's life, his struggles in integrating the mutant breed into the wider human community, his efforts in ensuring there was a safe haven for his students, the Xavier Academy, and his own moral standing. Xavier would never use his psychic abilities to force himself into the mind of another, would never abuse his power like that.

Shame he hadn't instilled that same sense of loyalty into his students, it was one of his first that had ended it all for the scrupulous Professor, Jean-Grey, transformed into the Dark Phoenix, and killer of Charles Xavier.

Arrington had gone on to read the reports of how that fight had ended, had read about the dead and wounded, lives that had been changed beyond repair, souls dead and buried and mourned, and through all that he had read, all the pictures he had seen something, a niggling doubt had bothered Arrington, there had been something wrong, the picture wasn't complete, something, someone was missing.

Dr Moira McTaggert, see when you study someone so completely, you read and re-read, you grow into their skin, you follow every step they would take, you stalk their shadows, you get into their habits, waking up when they did, eating when they did, everything is mimicked down to their favourite walk in the park.

Dr McTaggert had only been mentioned briefly in the notes on Xavier, she had been his once upon a time love, even going so far as getting engaged before she mysteriously broke it off and married that senator of hers. They had studied at Oxford together, had been in close contact for years afterwards, Moira proving her self to be one of the few humans who had a sympathy and understanding of mutants, but still, and here was the thing that bothered him, that had set Arrington on her in the first place.

For all their closeness, for all their history she had not been at the ceremony for the lately deceased Professor, she had not gone to say goodbye to a man she had once loved, to condole with those left behind, sent flowers or a card even, it was as if she just didn't care, or as Arrington believed it was as if Moira McTaggert knew better.

As if somehow she knew that perhaps Charles Xavier wasn't really gone, and if that was the case Arrington would find a use for the errant psychic.

Sure enough Dr McTaggert led him right to the truth; Xavier had tapped into that baser need and survived. And now he would prove his worth.

* * *

'We need to get rid of this truck.' Logan had parked in a ditch off the road, a map spread out across his lap and a red line marking out the route they would have to take. Seemed they would have to take the scenic route back to New York and the Academy, through the North states at least, they had agreed to stick to the dirt roads, the barley marked out backtracks hoping they would be able to avoid any more SUV's and soldiers. 

Down through Vermont, following the great rivers, down into the states of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecticut and finally onto the state of New York, back to the Academy, a home of sorts, a place for their own reasons they had both sought to abandon, because like all other places and all other memories it lay haunted.

It was a lot of ground to take in, hundreds of miles to cover, long roads to cross, not all of them were gonna be deserted, hundreds of towns in between this place and that, dozens of chances for them to be hunted down, to be chased. A battered SUV with a missing door and a couple of broken windows was sure to attract attention.

Marie smiled at him, 'Yeah, did ya learn to fly while ah was away, 'cause other than that this mess of a truck is the only way we're gonna make it back to New York.'

He jabbed at the map, she leaned over and peeked at the point he indicated, 'Here, there's a small town, nothing more than an outpost really, place called Woodward, ah sorta passed through the last time ah was down here.'

She looked up at him, her eyebrow quirked, 'Sorta?' she queried.

He screwed up his face, 'Yeah, it ain't the sort of place ya wanna stick around.' She waited for him to elaborate, expecting him to tell her it was a rough town, the sort of place ya saw on old fashioned westerns, not so welcoming of strangers.

He looked up and grinned at her, 'Woodward doesn't have a piss-hole to its name.'

'A piss-hole?' She shook her head, not sure she had heard right.

'A bar…' he explained, 'Woodward doesn't have a bar.'

She stared at him a while before she burst out laughing, no wonder Logan had wanted to leave in such a hurry. 'Yeah that's the place we wanna go, one where ya can die of thirst. Hey Logan, quick thought, how 'bout we jus' go ahead and make a wide berth round good ol' Woodward huh?'

He shook his head, 'Sorry kid, but not havin' a bar ain't the only thing Woodward is famous for, turns out at there's a grease monkey out there, a mechanic, sorta has the speciality of making a deal on trucks nobody legal is gonna want to touch, ya know cut and shut jobs, filing off the VIN numbers.'

'They don't have a bar, but have a wrench head that's happy to take back handers?'

Logan nodded, 'Yep go figure, there's a small diner, we can get somethin' to eat, stock up and a new set of wheels to boot. What d'ya say?'

Marie shrugged her shoulders, 'Sure Logan, lets go see a man 'bout a car, jus' make sure as hell we don't stay any longer than we have to. A town without a bar…' she shuddered at the thought, 'makes me feel dirty jus' thinkin' 'bout it.'

Logan laughed, it wasn't gonna be easy, they sure had a lot of road to cover, in more ways than one, but for the first time in a long time Logan was beginning to think they might just make it after all.

* * *

Moira had taken good care of Xavier, falsifying the reports that stated the body, the conscious he had taken over was dead, a body had been sent to the morgue, a death certificate forged and she had whisked him away to a place far into the Grampian Mountains, a haven high up in the Scottish hills, but even that had not been enough to keep him from finding them. 

Arrington had fully expected them to run, and he'd enjoyed hunting them down even into another continent, the look on her face had been priceless, right before they'd injected her with enough of a dose of ketamine to knock her out and into a coma, ironic really, if one stopped to think about it. They'd then simply wheeled Xavier into a jet with no one knowing any better.

As far as the world was concerned Professor Xavier was still very much dead. Only he wasn't, he was sat here in a glass cage, lowered from the ceiling and set before a man with white hair and a cold hard smile.

'Charles, seems as if you've been misbehavin' again, trying to contact Marie, trying to get inside that pretty little head of hers.' Arrington had taken a chair from the outer room and was now sat in front of the cage picking fluff of his neatly pressed trousers.

He leaned forward and watched as Charles did the same. 'I'm trying to help her, you have no idea what you've done, it's a dangerous game you're playing General.'

The smile on Arrington's face slowly faded, 'D'ya think you were any better for her? Tying her to that Academy of yours, making her think she belonged, but for only as long as she was useful right?'

Xavier bowed his head, 'Mistakes were made, Marie…we should have taken better care of her, but there was so much, Jean and Scott, and…'

'And just about everybody else, that was always a priority for you, but she always came last, funny how being untouchable makes people think you're invincible. And you with all your insight couldn't see what would happen, couldn't see what the cure would mean for her, how she wouldn't hesitate.' Arrington finished his tirade and rising quickly from his chair stood up and crossed the stone floor to stand directly in front of the cage.

He scoffed and shook his head, 'what's it feel like Charles, knowing how easily you could have prevented all this, if you'd just let her know she was wanted, that she was needed. But it always was everybody else before her, you, Logan, Ms Monroe…everybody at that damn Academy pushed her aside, more so than ever when she was cured.'

He suddenly smacked his hand against the cold glass, the vibrations resounded around the vault, 'Now you wanna tell me what the fuck all that was about? How does that happen, how does a kid go from getting everything she could possibly want, to finding that nobody wants her in return.'

Charles looked closely at Arrington his eyes narrowed slightly, 'You think you've helped her, don't you? You have no idea what you've done, you can't understand, her mutation isn't just a quirk in her DNA, everybody she absorbs is held in her head, not just memories and voices, but the very essence of them, if you don't stop Marie will be gone, there'll be nothing left of her, just a mess of everybody else.'

Arrington didn't speak, he circled the cage once more, 'I know what I'm doing, I've always known, I'm not stupid Charles, a mad sadistic bastard but not stupid. I don't want Marie, I just need her potential, the husk, the mutation is what's important…, turns out the body it's encased in at the moment is inconsequential.'

Charles shook his head, 'what right do you have, do you really believe that our mutancy is all that we are, that it is the be all and end all for us?'

Arrington laughed quietly, 'Of course, what else sets you apart Charles? From the rest of us what makes you or Marie any different? Your mutations, nothing more…and you want to talk about rights? What right did you have to take this body, to transfer your conscious into this man, what right did you or Dr McTaggert have to steal this mans soul?'

Charles hung his head, 'I saved his life….' He murmured quietly, he had long suffered with the guilt of his actions, fought over the consequences of his decision.

'Saved his life…or prolonged his misery?' Arrington scoffed, 'According to all the medical reports the man whose body you've taken is dead and gone, and you planned, you arranged all that…for fuck's sake Professor, that man's daughter wept over an empty grave thinking her father was being buried, and you want to talk to me 'bout rights? You'll forgive me if I'm a little bored with your attempts at theocracy.'

'What do you want Arrington, apart from Marie's mutation, what are you looking for?' Charles looked up earnestly up at him.

Arrington smiled and shrugged, 'Oh come on Charles, what's every megalomaniacs wet dream? Perfection….dominance, and, now I know its a little clichéd, it's an oldie but a goodie…a new world order.'

The general crossed over to the computer and hit a few buttons on the computer console, the whole vault was thrown into a blanket of an intense white light, Charles blinked against the brightness of it all before following Arrington's gaze upwards and looking around at the ceiling.

He already knew what was there, but the sight shocked him all the same, hundreds of glass cages similar to his own, suspended from the ceiling holding others prisoner like himself, other mutants.

* * *

'A town without a bar? Ya sure 'bout this Logan, sorta thought that kinda of thing went out with the dark ages.' Marie was sat back in her seat, her long legs propped up on the dashboard, the wind had eased at last, and the sun had come out at last but there was still a chill in the air. 

They were parked in the middle of a deserted country road, nothing more than a dust trail really, looking out across the plain at a few ramshackle buildings, the garage; it was a pile of corrugated iron, with scraps of twisted rusty metal littering its yard.

Across the road from the makeshift garage was a rundown diner, an old fashioned Ford pick–up sat in its rather ambitious but abandoned driveway, Marie leaned forward, she could make out a few beat up board houses further down the road, nothing distinguishable, nothing interesting and she could swear she had seen some tumbleweed roll by. She wouldn't be surprised if the damn place was abandoned, damn town without a bar now that was just wrong.

Logan rolled the SUV towards the garage, parking at an angle they climbed out of the truck and looked around vainly for a sign of life. The only sounds were the faint twangs of a country and western song playing on a radio.

'Hey boy…what ya want here?'

They both turned at the sound of the voice, coming face to face with a man in his late sixties, short and balding slightly, wearing dirty overalls and armed with a heavy wrench. He approached them slowly, sussing them out.

He stared them down for the longest while, until at last he stepped forward and laughed, Marie's brow furrowed, confused when Logan joined in and took a step forward as well, the older man dropped his wrench and stuck out his hand for Logan to shake.

Logan took it warmly and pulled him into a quick embrace, nothing more than a pat on the back, a manly display of affection. Marie smiled and shrugged her shoulders, typical; she half expected them to descend into a series of grunts, Alpha male like.

'Ya two know each other? Maybe ah should leave ya love birds alone. All that affection you're displayin' is kinda makin me uneasy.'

The short mechanic ignored Marie and spoke to Logan, 'Your gal bein' sarcastic Logan? 'Cause she must think ah'm too stupid to get irony huh, what with ma bein' a greased up wrench head…'

Logan sniggered and Marie grew angry, 'Hey asshole ah ain't his 'gal' alright…'

He turned to look at her at last, 'Don't worry darlin' ah'm jus' messin' with ya, 'sides ah reckon ya ain't his type anyway.'

Marie's eyes snapped angrily to look at Logan; he was grinning wryly at her and shrugged his shoulders, 'Look Eddie,' placing his hand on the older man's shoulder he steered him away from Marie who looked as if she was 'bout ready to threaten violence, 'we need a part exchange on this truck, we're lookin' for a ride, somethin' that's got more than a coupla miles in it, and some cash to boot.'

Eddie ran his hands along the rims of the SUV; he stood back and looked over the broken windows and door, 'Whew baby, sure looks like they tore chunks outta ya huh darlin'?'

Marie threw a look at Logan that asked, 'is this guy really talking to the truck?' They stood and waited for Eddie to appraise their ride, he popped the bonnet and stood for a long while staring at the engine, he disappeared under the hood of the car before slamming it shut and grinning stupidly at them.

'Well boys and gals ah think we got ourselves a deal.'

* * *

'Bullshit…' Arrington turned quickly, his surprise clear at the profanity that spilled from the usually measured and calm Xavier. He smiled and waited for the Professor to continue. 'All that talk about a new world order, it's a lie, that's not what you want is it?' 

Arrington sat back down in his chair, he leaned back and folded his arms across his chest, he chuckled quietly, 'Well what d'ya know Professor, turns out ya haven't lost your touch at all, but how 'bout we leave all the psycho analysis crap to one side and really get to talking, don't you want to know what the cure was really all about?'

Arrington paused and looked up again at all the cages and all the prisoners, 'Ya know most of them will be going back to their old lives now, the cure is fading. But then again it was never meant to last, jus' long enough to convince Marie that she was on her way to getting her life back. We added something extra for the special ones like Marie, a nano-chip, injected, it travelled through the bloodstream and attached itself to the cerebral cortex, here at the base of the neck.'

Arrington tapped the back of his head as an intrigued Charles looked on. The general smiled and went to stand in front of the glass cage again, 'You know all about the cerebral cortex right Charles? It's the part of the brain responsible for all the memories, for your senses, vision, touch, hearing, the part that holds your thoughts, holds your sanity together. This little chip delivers a toxin directly to the brain, slowly like a fucked-up poisonous IV drip, slowly, slowly working its way into every part of the body.'

Charles eyes grew wider as he realised the implications of Arrington's words, 'Why..?' he whispered.

'Call it a fail-safe, if we ever found ourselves at the crossroads, like we are now. I activated the chip over five months ago, every month that we've taken Marie since we added the antidote, keeping the toxin redundant, but the chip remains, our back up if you will. But here's the thing Charles, Marie hasn't had her hit of the antidote this time round, even as we speak the toxin is slowly making its way into every inch of her, drip…drip…drip…'

Professor Xavier shook his head, 'Stop it…stop!'

'We're working on a tight schedule Charles, she's already missed one dose, missing a second one is potentially fatal. You wanna know how the toxin works, it attacks the central nervous system, a sense of numbness overcomes, splitting headaches, blurred vision, loss of hearing, it's a slow death Charles, very painful, very messy.' Arrington's smile beamed down at the fallen Professor.

'What do you want Arrington?' Charles called out weakly.

Arrington didn't reply, he looked again at the cages suspended from the ceiling, crossing over to the computer console he talked over his shoulder as he went, 'Every single mutant here has been injected with the same toxin, they're all running on the same tight schedule as Marie, and what d'ya know, turns out I forgot to hit them with the antidote this month as well, now wasn't that careless of me?'

He pressed the few buttons on the computer console, waited for the command to be processed and watched as a second cage was lowered to the floor next to Charles. The Professor turned to look at the cage, he watched as a haggard, tired face with hollow eyes stared up at him.

Eric Magnus! Arrington had brought Charles face to face with an old friend, a fellow mutant, Magneto!

'Here's your chance Charles to play that saviour to your people, but hey, no need to walk on water, no need to feed the five thousand, what I want from you is much simpler…'

'What?' Charles voice had fallen to barely a whisper.

Arrington came to stand in front of Magneto's cage, he stared at Charles as he spoke, 'Very easy Professor, just keep talking to her…' he tapped the side of the glass, 'but be careful what you say, convince her it'll be in her best interests to come back to us, she might not be able to see the consequences of making a wrong decision, but I'm sure you do by now, don't you Charles?'

Professor Xavier could only nod, as he found himself battling his conscience once more, only this time it was to ensure the survival of others, and that survival meant the disintegration of one girl, he had to bring her back, her death for Magneto, and for the countless lives of others.

One for many, Marie for everybody else, Charles shut his eyes against the monstrous smile that was painted on Arrington's face; a solitary tear fell helplessly down his cheek.

'Marie…forgive me…'


	15. The Great Southern Invasion

_A/N: Glad you're enjoying the story, sorry took me so long to update, have been feelin' uber lazy lately :-)_**  
**

**Part 15- 'The Great Southern Invasion…'  
**

'Hey Logan…?' Marie was getting restless, they'd been stood around waiting for Eddie to finish appraising the battered SUV for the past half hour, and all the while Marie had paced, walking a few hundred feet in one direction and back.

She was scratching her palm, her hair messy and unkempt fell into her face and she pushed it back with an exasperated sigh, she stood in front of Logan, stabbing the dirt with her toes, he watched her silently for a while, puffing away on his cigar, 'What kid?'

'Ah thought ya said ya only sorta passed through here?' She looked around her, all the dust; the bare emptiness of the place had her comparing the barrenness to a hole deep inside. It unnerved her, to be so exposed like this, out in the open, it was too much like standing still, she needed to keep going, to get moving again, a junkie needing her own sort of fix.

Plus she needed a drink, Logan hadn't been exaggerating, Woodward was more of a piss-hole rather than having one.

He grunted at her, still chomping on that foul smelling cigar of his, 'Sure I did kid, didn't hang 'round here anymore than ah had to, coupla hours at best, few years back.'

'Oh yeah…?' she nodded back towards Eddie who had done hovering by the SUV and was now headed for them, 'so what's the deal with 'ol Billy Bob?'

Eddie laughed as he caught her words, 'Ol Billy Bob huh? Ouch even as a Texan those words hurt…' he looked her up and down before winking at Logan, 'darlin' ya look like a gal 'bout ready to die from thirst, ah know exactly what ya need…' He disappeared into the cool confines of the garage.

Marie stared after him, 'Oh yeah…? If it ain't a cold beer ah don't wanna know…' She grinned widely as Eddie reappeared carrying a crate of beer, she could see the metal tops glinting in the sunlight and the condensation drops running down the side of the chilled bottle necks. She licked her lips self-consciously, before catching the bottle Eddie threw at her; she twisted the cap open and downed half the liquid in one cool draft.

She sighed contentedly and raised the bottle in mock salute, 'Ah guess ah could get to like ya…'

Logan grinned, stubbed out the cigar and reached for a bottle himself, 'Last time ah came through Woodward needed some repairs on the bike, found the only mechanic here Eddie passed out under a car, by the time he came round and we started drinkin' again we were ol' friends.'

Eddie laughed at the memory, 'Whoo-ee, sure capped some heat that day, Mama Cherry just 'bout tore the flesh from ma bones.'

Logan laughed along with him, 'Yeah, ah remember, she still runnin' a no alcohol policy at that diner of hers?'

Eddie nodded, 'Yup, coupla years ago, some pissed up truckers tore the place apart, shot the place up as well, she's ran a no booze establishment since. But ah like the cold stuff too much,' he raised the bottle and smiled wickedly at Marie, 'partners in crime huh?'

She smiled, 'Mama Cherry huh?'

Eddie nodded, 'Ma gal, real southern sweetheart, jus' like ya.' Marie shook her head, and laughed a little, 'Like me huh? Ah doubt it.'

Logan took a long sip; draining his beer in one gulp, he stared across the road at the diner with its flashing red sign, 'Good ol' Mama Cherry, one helluva New Orleans gal, makes the best gumbo this side of the Mississippi river,' he dusted himself down and stepped forwards, 'guess ah should go see her, ya wanna come?'

He looked back at Marie, she shook her head slightly, 'Maybe later, ah think ah'm gonna hang 'round here for a while yet…' Logan nodded, his eyes shifted slightly to meet Eddie's, he nodded slightly in agreement.

Any other time, and any other place Logan wouldn't have entrusted Marie's safety to anyone, but Eddie, he trusted Eddie. He hadn't lied to Marie, he had only known the old mechanic for a couple of hours a few years ago, but sometimes it just takes a coupla hours sat in the sun drinkin' beers with someone, or havin' them climb in the back of your trailer to know that ya'd made a friend for life. Or at least met someone who was gonna have one helluva influence on your life.

Here in a small outback town it had been the likes of Eddie and Mama Cherry, and outside a windswept snowed under Laughlin city it had been Marie, strange how it had taken being chased across the country to bring these two influences together.

He was already halfway across the road when Eddie called out after him, 'Hey Logan, ya wanna surprise Mama Cherry? Jus' call her old, but boy ya better be ready to duck when she starts throwin' those punches!'

Marie watched as Logan chuckled, she couldn't help but smile, she looked back at Eddie who was muttering, 'Ah swear that boy gets more clueless every time, to be crazy assed enough to call any woman old, never mind Mama Cherry!'

Marie walked past him to sit on the wooden dilapidated picnic table that was strangely suited to the whole rundown look of the place; she lay down on the bench resting the bottle on her stomach enjoying the feel of the cool glass on her flesh. Staring up at the sky, she could see the clouds darkening; a cold wind was beginning to blow in, the air smelt damp, it would rain tonight.

Eddie taking a spanner and an oily rag to clean it with came up and sat on the table, his heavy boots resting by her feet, her skirt rode up a little as she lay back, the scratches on her legs were most noticeable from this angle, his eyes couldn't help but be glued to the deep marks and bruised flesh, before his gaze shifted to her arms and finally to her face.

The heavy bruise on the side of her face was beginning to purple nicely, and without make up to cover it, she'd taken to letting her hair fall over it as much as possible, she met Eddie's gaze with a harsh look of her own, waiting for him to ask the endless questions she knew he must have.

He smiled instead and went back to cleaning his spanner, she shut her eyes and resting her head back decided to enjoy and make the most of what little sunshine there was before the inevitable rains set in.

'Ah would've have thought ya'd jump at the chance of tastin' some good food again, a taste of home what your bein' a Southern gal and all. Don't tell me the good folk of Caldecott, Mississippi have forgotten what real soul food tastes like?'

She froze at the sound of his words, 'how'd ya know ah was from Caldecott?' She sat up suddenly, her eyes glowering, her tone insistent and demanding.

Eddie smiled, 'There ain't a lot ah don't know 'bout ya Marie, soon as ah saw ya step out of that truck with Logan and that two tone hair of yours ah knew.'

Marie's eyes narrowed, her hand instinctively headed for the small of her back, intending to reach for the Glock, seeing no compulsion but the to deal with this threat as she had dealt with any other, but her hand grasped nothing but the material of her shirt. Her eyes flew to the sight of the SUV; the gun was still locked up in the truck. She was trapped with this man who seemed to know everything 'bout her.

* * *

'Don't look so worried kid, ah ain't out to hurt ya, Logan talked 'bout ya is all, last time he was here, ya were the one thing, the only thing he talked 'bout.'

Marie hesitated, contemplating his words, deciding at last that maybe he was telling the truth; she glowered at him the longest while 'fore settling back down on the bench, she rested her hands behind her head and brought up one knee, letting the other leg dangle to the floor. Eddie wasn't a threat, jus' an old man with too much to say.

She was quiet, before lifting her head slightly to take a long drag of the beer, she tossed the empty bottle across the grass carelessly, 'maybe ah don't want a taste of home, no matter how good the gumbo is.'

Eddie shrugged his shoulders and looked down at her, 'Oh yeah, not the best memories huh?'

She didn't reply, instead chuckled lightly, Eddie waited for her to begin talkin' again, she looked up at him.

'What?' he asked.

'The Texas ranger, the New Orleans queen of soul food and now the Mississippi misfit, ah'm beginning to wonder if this is another Southern invasion.' Her smile widened as she went back to leaning lazily on her back.

'Funny thing ya know, runnin'….' Eddie paused and sighed, 'seems can't get far away from whatever it is that's chasin' ya.' Marie opened one eye slowly, she saw him starin' off absent minded.

'Mama Cherry and me, we jus' sort of drifted up here separately, a long time ago, fuck if ah can remember how many years it's been now. Thing 'bout driftin' ya seem to forget what it is ya were runnin' from in the first place, in the end becomes an itch, ya keep movin', otherwise stand still and ya swear the walls start closin' in on ya, and ya can't breathe, ya gotta keep goin', keep movin' on. The constant flow and ebb, crawlin' along the roads, a few months here and there, nothing solid, nothin' real…'

She sat up at last, and stared up at him, maybe what the old man had to say mattered after all, it seemed so much like what she was goin' through, minus the soldiers chasing her and the crazy voices in her head of course.

'In the end, ya end up standin' still 'fore ya even know what's hit ya, somethin', someone makes ya wanna put down roots, ah'd only been 'ere coupla months, was ready to drift right back out, guess that's when Mama Cherry rolled in, and oh boy, she was somethin' else, hit ya with all the force of a freight train.' He looked back at her at last, smiling from ear to ear, he patted her shoulder knowingly.

'Why ya tellin' me all this…?' She brushed his touch off, he didn't seem offended, and just smiled wider.

'Maybe it's easier to talk to strangers, or maybe it's 'cause Logan trusts ya, ah guess that's 'bout as ringin' an endorsement as ah need.'

She got up and walked over to the SUV, Eddie followed her, she climbed into the passenger seat, resting her head back against the car seat, she didn't need this, didn't need to hear what Logan could have said 'bout her, didn't need to hear what she already knew, what she had always known, no matter what Logan felt for her, he'd never see those feelings through, that was part of the reason they'd ended up in this mess in the first place.

Eddie pulled open the back door and climbed into the seat, she all but growled at him, but he settled back into the seat crossing his arms over his chest,

'Ya two are a lot ya like ya know, both scared of what's right in front of ya. Ah asked him, when he had all but done describing everythin' 'bout ya, how he'd found ya, what Magneto put ya through, and the hell he'd go through all over again jus' to get ya back and even down to your favourite colour.

Ah asked him, this gal she's special, so what are ya doin' here, talkin' to an old man, instead of doin' somethin' 'bout gettin' with her?'

Marie sighed, she closed her eyes and could almost picture the scene, but was she really ready to hear Logan's excuses, to listen to his fears accentuated and passed on by a man he'd once upon a time shared a coupla hours and coupla more beers with?

'Nothin' but jail bait right now he'd said, but even after, when she's done growin' up, that gal is gonna be somethin' else, more than ah deserve, more than ah'm ever gonna deserve.' Eddie waited for her to acknowledge his words, he caught her gaze in the rear view mirror, but her eyes were cold and unmoving.

She ignored him, reaching forwards instead she tackled with the glove compartment until she had prised the box open, reaching inside she reached for Glock, again her hand came up empty. She whirled around to face Eddie; he had the gun and was pointing it in her direction.

She stared down the muzzle, before looking up and smiling at him, she held out her open hand for him, he placed the gun coolly in her hand, 'Lucky for ya, ah have more than one line of business, that chambers just 'bout empty, figure you're gonna need a coupla these as well.' He threw a box of bullets at her which she caught easily.

Marie climbed out of the truck; she tucked the Glock at the back of skirt again rearranging the shirt to conceal the weapon. Pushing the box into the top of her tattered boots she made her way back to the table and sat down heavily on the bench. The pounding in the back of her head had returned. She leant back and pounded the back of her head repeatedly against the table.

Eddie came to sit next to her awkwardly, he seemed unsure what to say next, he hadn't known what to expect when he'd seen her step out of the truck, all he had to go on was Logan's description of her, his words, and what Eddie had expected was a kid, a mere wisp of a thing, all fragile and needing.

But this Marie, she was tough; it was clear, there was an edge to her, sharpness, the trait of bitterness that hinted at a soul strengthened beyond what her age belied. Eddie suspected she would be able to handle herself, with or without Logan.

She sighed and looked at him, 'How'd ya get him to open up, Logan's shut tighter than Fort Knox, how'd ya get him to talk?'

Eddie smiled, 'Like ah said maybe it's easier to talk to strangers, and in a town without a bar ya jus' don't how much a man is willin' to give for a coupla cold beers.' He laughed and Marie smiled wryly. 'Mama Cherry saw somethin' in him, somethin' like what we used to be she said. Ya don't ever stop runnin' Marie, ya feet maybe standin' still but in your head you're always movin'. Thing is ya gotta work out a way to make the two together, otherwise the itch is jus' 'bout gonna drive ya crazy, maybe ya can work that out together, ya and Logan.'

Marie didn't answer, she looked down at the ground, she doubted it was something they could work out, thing was she was reconciling a truth she had come to realise within herself for as long as Logan had come back into her life, it had come on gradually but she was certain of it now.

She didn't love him anymore, not the way she had done, the way she had adored him at sixteen and worshipped him at seventeen, to the time he had rejected her when she was just eighteen, and now, when she was older than most nineteen years olds had to be, when she was tired and jaded, she didn't love him the way she had used to, she didn't love Logan anymore, _she wasn't in love with him anymore._

* * *

Arrington smiled widely at the small group of heavily muscled and combat clothing clad soldiers stood in front of him, stone-faced and expertly turned out, he nodded at them in silent acknowledgement, this was his team, the very best, the elite, and he'd personally approved each of them. 

They were men and women of the highest calibre, the best in their field, soldiers of fortune, assassins, killers every single one of them, hunters, they'd seen action all over the world, assignments for which he'd personally hand picked them.

'Ladies and gentleman, ah think it's time to up the stakes, let's make this little game worth playing. Let's really test her, ah think it's 'bout time we saw jus' what little Marie is capable of.'

Lieutenant Bishop was stood in the corner of the room, his brow furrowed in concern; this was yet a new development in this operation he did not like. The general's agenda seemed to run on its own accord, cold logic teamed with sadistic manipulation, and coupled with an attitude that said to hell with the consequences.

The young lieutenant was not used to running operations on such a seemingly reckless scale; the army taught him the use of strategic planning, not taking chances, with odds measured and calculated to a fine art. In contrast Arrington's approach was to stoke fires with a napalm bomb.

'Ah'm officially issuing a SOSP…'

Bishop eyes widened and he sprang forward, 'What…?'

Arrington turned to look at him, he smiled, 'A SOSP lieutenant, surely you've been in the army long enough to know what that means.'

Bishop gritted his teeth, 'I known what it means, a shoot on sight policy, you can't be serious, the board will never approve this action, you're aware of that sir?'

Arrington approached the lieutenant slowly, all eyes were trained on the two men, 'They're bureaucrats Bishop, not approving is part of their job description, but shush,' Arrington smilingly placed a finger on his lips, 'we don't have to say anything to them just yet. Anyway…' he turned to address the whole room 'who's to say waiting can't have be fun, don't you wanna to see how far she's come, just how much of a challenge she can prove?'

Bishop shook his head, Arrington was determined to ignore him, he dismissed the company and they filed out in single file, marching double time, and issued with the policy, 'shoot on sight.'

Arrington was last to leave, he smiled as he stood shoulder to shoulder with Bishop; the General was tall and towered over the young lieutenant. He stopped and gripped Bishop's arm tightly, 'don't look so worried, she'll kick their asses trust me, but Bishop…' he leant closer and almost whispered, 'you ever think of questioning a direct order again, I'm gonna personally make sure I finish the job the Logan started on your gut.'

A swift punch to Bishop's gut drove the General's point home and left the lieutenant doubled over coughing and chilled to the bone.

* * *

Mama Cherry was a large beautiful African-American woman, with the most expressive eyes Marie had ever seen and the biggest smile; she had all but crushed Marie in a hug that seemed to last forever.

A couple of bowls of the best gumbo Marie had tasted and a few more beers later, 'bout the time Marie was hugging everyone right back Eddie had a car ready for them. He called it a car but Marie sputtered out the beer she was drinking when she saw just what Eddie was offering them.

It was a Buick skylark, in a colour that might have been blue once upon a time, with a rusted chassis that looked as if it might fall apart if someone leaned too heavily on it. She shook her head, but Eddie was adamant.

'Look kids, ya didn't have exactly give me a lot of notice, this is the best ah can do for now, and trust me it's a good car…' he thumped the bonnet and grinned even when a loud creak could be heard, Marie tilted her head, looking to the side of the car, thinking for sure one of the doors had fallen off.

'Uh-uh…no way, the SUV that y'all are gonna strip and ship halfway round the world by tomorrow, now that is a good car, this…' she circled the car and kicked one of the Buick's wheels, 'this is a piece of shit on four wheels.'

'Wow Logan…' Eddie grinned at her, 'she swears like a whore and drinks like a fish, guess ah was wrong she's just the gal for you.'

'Asshole…!' Marie half-heartedly aimed the bottle at him; it sailed easily past his head just as she intended and shattered on the ground. Logan shook his head and pulled on the Buick's driver side door, it was jammed. He tugged it and eventually got the thing open with a sharp pull, Marie laughed loudly.

'We'll take it…' Logan called out as Eddie handed the keys to him; he also gave him a bundle of cash and fake driver's licences. Mama Cherry had also stocked them up with food provisions.

Both Eddie and Mama Cherry watched them drive off into the sunset, it had only just started to rain and a strong wind was picking up. Neither Marie nor Logan turned around long enough to see the black SUV's similar to the one they'd left behind roll into Woodward.

They didn't see the soldiers climb down from their trucks, or see them shake hands with Eddie.


	16. Old Friends, Same Fight

_A/N: Magneto has often been likened to the militant Malcolm X. The chance to quote the great man proved too tempting even for a throwaway piece of fic like this. Ok, so here's a warning, horrible cliffie coming up...! LOL :-)_

* * *

**  
Part 16- 'Old Friends…Same Fight…'  
**

The chess board hovered between the two cages, Charles keeping the board and the chess pieces aloft telepathically, he sat cross legged on the floor of the cage, still a little surprised that Arrington had acquiesced to allow him to communicate with Magneto like this.

Eric wore a frown of concentration, he was without his powers, instead he was forced to call out his next move to Charles who took to moving the piece for him, and the uselessness of his situation rendered the once proud Magneto nauseous. He likewise mirrored Charles stance and sat cross legged on the floor of the cage, his head tilted to one side, his chin resting in his palm, and getting angrier by the minute.

'Rook to C3…' he called out eventually, Charles complied and the chess piece lifted effortlessly and floated over to the new position. Eric suddenly laughed, and Charles looked up at him surprised. 'So Professor Xavier, are you still going to argue for the good of humanity?'

Charles smiled and sighed softly, 'What do you wish me to say Eric? That, though my faith has been shaken, my resolve remains?' He shook his head, 'I cannot be sure Arrington's motives, but perhaps Eric they are not so dissimilar to yours.'

Magneto looked up angrily, 'The man is a sadistic animal, my efforts have always been to ensure the survival of my race.'

Xavier smiled wider, 'Through the destruction of theirs?'

'And what if I had succeeded Charles, what then? If I had successfully removed the threat of that poison they called the cure, would the prospect have been so very distasteful? We would not be trapped in these cages now, countless mutants would not have been sold a false truth, and your precious Marie would not be hunted down like an animal.'

Xavier was unmoved, it was no less than he would have expected from Eric, all the fury, the rage burned still in an old friend, and in the face of all that had happened he could not place blame, but still he held fast to the truth that compassion, that a semblance of truth existed in us all, he could not lose his faith, could not afford to have it shaken even when he had been forced to call upon a nineteen year old girl and coerce her into succumbing to her death.

A sacrifice that was not his to make, a life that was not his to take, and in the face of such underlying truths, there is nothing to hold onto but a faith.

'The world does not seek its redemption through its destruction, there will always be those who seek to sure us Eric, or use us, or pity us. They don't choose to understand, but what are we to do, isolate them all, convert them, or destroy them in return?'

Eric scoffed, 'Surely not even you would seek to explain this, or to forgive their actions? Not even you could be cursed with such a blind sycophantic love of humanity, or else that truly would be sickening.'

Charles stared at him sternly, 'Humanity is not lost Eric, and there are those amongst them whom we can call friends.'

Eric laughed out right, 'Oh yes of course, your precious Dr Moira McTaggert, and look how well that has worked out for you, I apologise Charles, and you may trust that you have converted me at least.' His bitter sarcastic tone was biting.

'Nothing could excuse this, I will not attempt it Eric, but what of Arrington's motives, the safety of the human race through the misguided notion that he must create of his own army of mutants? Whatever it is, I know that he has lied to me; he has no inclination, no desire to take over the world. It is something more intrinsic, baser to his nature, he lied…Marie is important, much more than just her mutation; otherwise nothing would justify this effort, this expense.'

'Trust you Charles, to attempt to make sense of a man's madness…'

'And what of your madness Eric…?' Xavier grew angry, 'Marie was important to you for the same reasons not so long ago, enough to put her inside that machine of yours, enough to kill her, a child Magneto, that you consented to kill, that you allowed to die.'

Magneto smiled, unmoved and unrepentant, _'If you're not ready to die for it, take the word freedom out of your vocabulary.'_

Charles smiled recognising the words instantly, 'Malcolm X, you have always aspired to loftier aspirations Eric, except you weren't ready to die for it, you were ready to kill her.' Magneto shrugged in response, the Professor continued, 'remember that same man also said, _'Education is the passport to the future, for tomorrow belongs to those who prepare for it today.'_

Eric laughed outright, 'Yes by all means Charles, let's educate the poor misguided fools, maybe that way lies peace and harmony, we can live together and tomorrow can belong to us all, mutants and humans alike.' He continued laughing, the sound echoing around the vault, 'perhaps the next time Arrington enters, you can educate him on his mistakes, and point out to him what a naughty boy he's been.'

Charles shook his head quietly, 'Compassion is not dead Eric, even here, it strives still, perhaps it simply requires that spark of recognition, what do you say Lieutenant Bishop?' The young lieutenant stepped out of the shadows, his eyes narrowed and his look questioning, he watched as a Charles smiled.

'I'm a psychic, how long did you think you could hide your presence from me?'

Bishop simply stared at him, 'Maybe I don't agree with everything he's doing, I don't agree with his methods,' he cast an eye up and around the varied suspended cages, 'but only because he risks unnecessary exposure. This procedure, it's necessary, we still need Marie.'

'Bishop…?' Magneto called out questioningly, 'Wasn't he the second in command when Stryker led that raid against the mansion?' He looked back at Charles and then once again at the lieutenant.

Bishop suddenly became defensive, 'We had no choice, the mutant threat against National security was too great to ignore, and we had to act before it was too late, we had to do something.'

Eric laughed, 'So if that was a counter attack Lieutenant, then what's this…the pre-emptive strike?'

Bishop turned to walk out of the vault, he stopped before he reached the door, 'I'll talk to the board about reining the General in, but other than that nothing will change.' They barley caught the words he muttered after that, but Charles believed they were something along the lines of, 'I'm sorry…'

Eric smiled as the young man left, he turned back to the chess game, 'Humanity huh Charles?' He stared across the space between them, through the glass cages that held them both, two important men, two old friends, same old argument and both of them rendered useless. Eric stared deep into Charles eyes, 'Knight to G4…I believe that's checkmate.'

* * *

The Buick rattled along at its own uneven pace, Marie chewed her fingernail nervously, something about the situation didn't sit quite right, the buzz from the beers she had drank was slowly beginning to ebb and she was finding herself on edge once more. 

The weather did nothing to help, pitch black; the heavy downpour was only illuminated by the occasional strike of lightening, and every time the sky rumbled Marie was sure the next strike of thunder was closer.

Like bombs raining down, only there was nowhere to run, nowhere to seek shelter. Exposed and vulnerable to the elements Marie hated the sensation. She watched as the raindrops hit the windscreen, a torrent of epic proportions, and the fierce wind only driving the rain harder and faster.

It was a hellish sort of night, with the storm raging outside and the uneasy air that had settled inside the car. The route they had decided to take was up alongside of the river, the heavy rains had swollen the river to more than twice its size, icy cold and fast flowing it would swallow up and wash away anything that fell in. She was glad for the wooden barriers that separated the top of the embankment from the river below.

Marie did not know what to say to Logan, she wasn't even all that angry with him, thing was she wasn't all that much of anything with him anymore; she was slowly beginning to settle for being indifferent.

Logan equally had things on his mind, having shaken off the soldiers, and not had anything chase them other than the fierce rain; he couldn't help but think back as to how all this had started, back to how it all could have worked out so differently. There'd been so many mistakes and nearly all of them his.

He was ready to admit to that, the mistakes, the false steps, the wrong directions all had been his, had he not wasted his chances, had he had the guts to see his feelings through, had he even had the balls not to stand aside over a year ago and stopped her from taking that damn cure.

It could have been such a different story, for all of them.

He sighed deeply, strange in all the years he hadn't felt this tired, but right now it seemed his healing was working at half it's pace, like he was breathing with half a lung, and only that morning he had even begun to think that things might turn out alright, he should have known, ain't nothin' gonna work out jus' right, for some reason the gods jus' didn't see fit to make life easier for either of them.

Logan turned to look at her, the purplish bruises mottled her legs and arms, her face was turned to the side, but he knew he'd left a mark of his own, another bruise, another mark another reason to remind him jus' how thoroughly he had fucked things up.

'I'm sorry kid…' his words barely carried above a whisper, and for the longest moment she didn't reply.

'For what…?' she asked at last.

'For all this…for not bein' there for ya more this past year, for not doin' more to stop ya goin' for that cure, for all this…' He would have said more, but she interrupted.

'Don't…' she spat out angrily, he looked at her confused, she laughed a little, 'figures…should have known that ya'd manage to make this all 'bout you.' She turned on him angrily, her eyes narrowed and flashing bright.

He gritted his teeth, 'What ya sayin' kid?'

'Gotta turn this into another one of your personal crusades huh Logan…ah'm the one bein' chased across state lines, ah'm the one with the crippling headaches and the blackouts, but no, we gotta turn this into another one of your fights. Logan, the tortured soul, the man with the weight of the world on his shoulders, the one who chose a side and has lived to regret it ever since.'

He stared at her wide-eyed as she continued her tirade, 'So don't, don't turn this, don't turn me into another one of your causes, your fight, your next bid to play a hero, sorry but ah ain't gonna play the damsel in distress, not this time Logan, not now.'

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned to look out of the window again, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, her words slamming into him one after the other, another chance to play hero, one more chance.

He kept his eyes on the road this time as he carefully formed his next words. 'You know what your problem is kid?'

'No, but ah guess it must be serious if ah need a man as insightful as you to tell me…' her tone was bitter and sarcastic.

'Hey, ah've got insight…' he retorted defensively.

She smiled as she turned to look at him, 'No Logan, you've got hindsight, perfect 20-20 fucked up hindsight, the kind that makes ya think ya have to apologise for things that are out of your control. Ya wouldn't know insight if it came up and pissed on your leg.'

He shook his head, 'Your problem kid, you wanna box up your feelings, stack them up, lock them away in neat little boxes, you think it works for ya, think it makes you jus' as tough as you have to be. You leave them on all the shelves in your head, lock them in and shut the lids down tight, and then you let them die, so they're not hanging on, nothing to hold you back, nothin' to tie you down.'

Marie looked at him closely before she laughed out loud, 'Yeah, well ah got three words for ya Logan.' She counted them on her fingers as she spoke, to make her point. 'Pot….kettle...black.'

He ignored her, 'thing is kid, you're lettin' too much die, too busy playin' the cold hearted bitch to see it ain't you anymore Marie, spendin' too much time lettin' the compassionate, the givin' side of you go…too busy killin' off the girl I remember, the girl you are.'

She was cold and unmoved, 'Nice speech Logan, what happened, ya find the time to take psych 101 class in between screwing your next blonde?'

Logan's knuckles whitened but he kept his voice steady, 'Ya haven't come to term with it yet have ya? Thing was kid you were so desperate to get rid of your mutancy, ya didn't know what to do once it'd gone. You figured everythin' would fall neatly into place; you'd get everythin' you wanted, only it didn't work out like that, and turns out you don't like her any better, with or without the mutant powers, you still couldn't work it out, what or who you were supposed to be. Somehow simply bein' Marie just ain't enough is it?'

He turned to look at her, his words had cut deep, it was clear, she was staring back at him, biting down hard at that bottom lip and practically shaking with anger, but the best way to win an argument, the best part to deal with the hurt was to reflect it back.

She'd learnt that a long time ago, to cut back with the same jagged edges, the same rusty blade, use the same piece of broken glass to strike back, reflect it back, make him hurt as much as he thinks he hurts you.

'Ya came to terms with it huh? Your mutancy, you came to terms with it? Is that why ya wasted those years lookin' for the answers to it, is that why ya hold onto those tags? Ya really tellin' me Logan that ya honestly didn't think 'bout it? Didn't think 'bout takin' the cure for yourself, jus' to let the pain go, jus' to be allowed to go back, to remember something of what ya once were, or what ya once might have been?'

'Cause ah don't believe ya, ah don't believe it was that easy for ya to come to terms with, ah remember what ya said to me once, when ah asked if the metal hurt, if the mutancy hurt, ya said 'every damn time', ah remember Logan, so fuck you and fuck comin' to terms with it.'

She spat the words back at him, pieces of broken glass to draw blood, and she was unrepentant. Logan didn't reply, she was an expert at this, spitting out the venom, and nothing was gonna change it; she was who she wanted to be, bitchy, vindictive, unforgiving Marie.

She smiled and moved closer to him, he kept his eyes firmly fixed on the same spot on the windscreen, she spoke softly almost whispering in his ear, 'Ya know the difference between me and you Logan? Ah saw somethin' ah wanted, and ah went for it, no holdin' back, all out, and ah don't regret a single minute of it. Maybe that's somethin' ya could do with learnin'…shame it's too late.'

Her lips brushed past his ear, her soft sigh passing gently over his neck, before she moved back to stare at him, he looked at her at last, his eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed in concern. 'Marie…'

'What?' She hadn't expected the surprised, concerned look on his face; if anythin' she had half-expected to be slapped again. When he did reach out for her, his fingers brushed over her top lip, they both stared at his thumb under the dim light of the Buick; a viscous red liquid was smeared across his finger.

Blood, running her tongue across her top lip she tasted the familiar copper tang, sitting back in her seat she ran the back of her hand across her face, it was everywhere now, the back of her hand, smeared across her cheek, and running down from her nose.

She caught her reflection in the rear view mirror, the briefest of glimpses before the image blurred, snapping her head back, she braced her hands either side of her face as she started screaming.

The pain, an excruciating pain burst in the back of her head, throbbing aches as she gritted her teeth and fought to open her eyes.

At last the pain abated, into a dull throb then resounded like hammers pounding away, but her thinking, her sense and her vision was as clear as it had ever been, and in a way she almost expected what happened next.

A fierce crack sounded deep in the night air, not the lightening, something much closer and just as deadly, she ducked down into her seat as the back window of the Buick shattered, tiny shards of glass flying inwards and showering the inside of the car.

'Shit!' Logan floored the gas pedal of the car instinctively and the Buick burst forward with a sudden influx of speed that belied its rundown state. But it was not enough, the black SUV bore down on them, its strength and speed the Buick could never hope to match.

'How the fuck didn't we see them before?' Logan screamed above the sound of the fierce wind and rains that blasted through the shattered rear window and drowned the inside of the car. The road they had been travelling had been deserted for miles, nothing ahead or behind them, he should have spotted them.

Marie had the Glock in her hands in an instant, loading the gun as she spoke; her voice was eerily detached, cold and expert as she thumbed off the safety, rolling down the window of her door, Logan had to strain to catch her words.

'Modified engine and exhaust so the SUV runs silent, hands-free night-vision goggles for the driver and everyone else inside, no need for headlights, extensive satellite navigation systems, and most importantly it's bullet proof…'

Logan stared at her; she seemed to be listing off the attributes of the SUV, almost as well as if she was actually sat in the damn thing! He watched as the black truck rolled up alongside them, the passenger seat window wound down a few inches and the barrel of what looked like a high powered rifle resting on the recess.

'Marie!' he shouted out a warning to her, but she wasn't listening, she waited until the last moment, the SUV almost level with the Buick, the metals of the two cars grinding against each other, extended her arm outside the car, she sighted down the muzzle, her arm remarkably steady, the crosshairs of her vision and aim almost expanding right in front of her, until the target wasn't in a darkened, heavily protected truck, through the few inches of glass, but right in front of her, merely a few feet away.

Her pull on the trigger was gentle, her aim steady, she smiled as she fired, past the rifle muzzle, around the passenger and to her intended target. The scream from the SUV carried above the sound of the lashing rains and wind, and the SUV swerved as the shoulder of the driver exploded in a bloody pulpy mess of shattered bone.

The rifle disappeared inside the truck as the passenger fought to take hold of the wheel, the truck swerved towards the Buick, pushing the smaller car towards the edge of the road and the barrier that separated the steep embankment and the rapidly flowing river that raged below.

Logan slammed the brakes hard, the wheels of the Buick screeched as the car began to spin, the SUV seeing its advantage rammed into the spinning back tail of the Buick, a loud bang resounding as the back of the small car was crushed.

It was impossible to stop their momentum as the car continued to skid across the road slick and treacherous from the rain, the back wheels were flat and useless, the metal rims crushed and bent. The Buick hit the wooden barriers headfirst crashing through and nosedived down the embankment, overturning and rolling a few times before it plunged into the icy cold river water and began to sink…


	17. Sink Or Swim

_A/N:Someone commented that the cliffies were becoming a little too much and such were becoming predictable, now you lovely peopl you'd let me know if that was the case right? Come on people I can take it...let me know...:-)_

* * *

**Part 17- 'Sink Or Swim…'**

'What's happening…?' Charles called out frantically to Arrington, the chess board falling to the ground, forgotten. The general was stood at the corner of the vault watching calmly as the glass cages began to rock and shake, the frantic screams of the various prisoners growing into an unearthly crescendo.

Xavier had seen Magneto begin to bleed, the slow trickle of red liquid that had begun to seep slowly from the corners of his nose, it was at that point Eric had gripped the sides of his head tightly, his low audible moan of pain growing into a full blooded scream.

It had happened to all of them, all of them except Charles, he had to watch and listen as the screams of pain and anguish filled the vault, resounded off every wall, bouncing into hollow, haunted echoes.

General Arrington shook his head, 'Get to work Charles, time is running out…for all of you.'

He turned and walked out of the vault as the cries slowly abated to be replaced with shallow moaning of pain, time was running out, Arrington's poison was beginning to take effect, within a few weeks who knew what damage the chip would do.

* * *

Water…cold, cold water…she had seen it all in her mind's eye, the Buick would roll over the side, buckle and break and eventually sink upside down in the cold fast flowing water.

It had all been so predictable, she should have known, even as the car was spinning, everything else seemed to have slowed down, staring at Logan trying his damn hardest to steady the car, gripping the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white, every muscle strained, fighting the inevitable.

Death comes to us all.

Marie planted her feet firmly on the floor of the car, her hands braced on the dashboard as an eerie sort of calm washed over her; it had all been so predictable, all so inevitable. She shut her eyes tight, her stomach turning with the motion of the car, up and over, until at last came the splash.

The noise had been deafening, the sound of the roof hitting the water, and then the silence, the god-awful silence that seemed to linger for hours, until she opened her eyes, only to be met with the pitch black force of a wall of water.

The car was filling up fast; she kicked herself free and almost floated out of the open window, her small frame fitting easily through the gap, her skirt billowing around her, she resigned herself to the cold embrace of the river.

There was no feeling, every finger, every extremity; every inch of skin was numb, yet the calmness remained. She didn't kick, didn't move her arms, didn't even struggle but instead surrendered herself to sinking.

Down she went, further and further her arms outspread, her eyes slowly drifting shut, hair floating upwards in wisps, she felt herself being pulled down by the river's current, glad for the force that kept dragging her further and further into the bleakness.

Slowly her chest began to hurt, the burning sensation growing as her lungs fought for every inch of air still left in her body, screaming for a release, screaming to be allowed to inflate again, breathe…her mind screamed at her, get to the fuckin' surface and breathe again!

But it seemed so easy, she was tired, so tired of running, of fighting, let me sink to the floor, let it end, stop chasing me, stop hunting me, let me finish it, my way.

_'Wake up kid…!'  
_

She pushed the voice away, wanting to enjoy the last moments of calm, alone, free from them all.

_ 'Get the fuck up and outta here…it ain't gonna end like this kid, now ya start kickin' your feet, or ah swear ah'm gonna start kickin' your ass!'  
_

Marie smiled at the vain threat, her eyes snapping open, still making no effort to move her legs or arms, making no effort at all to save her life.

_ 'Marie for fuck's sake, is this really how ya want things to go down? Thought ya were stronger than this kid? Where's the kid who was ready to blow her own head off, where's the kid with more balls than most of the soldiers whose asses she's kicked?'  
_

Marie balled her fists, the voice pounding in on her, images flashed before her eyes, bruised and bloodied, she saw herself broken, and she saw the Kevlar clad soldiers, the men who would not let her rest. The image shifted and she saw herself stood over them, the angel of darkness, covered in head to toe in blood, their blood.

She would have her revenge, they would bleed, she would make them suffer, all of them, they would beg her for mercy and she would offer none.

The thought made her smile; she would have her revenge, her terms, her rules, and her game.

_'That's it kid…like ah always said, ain't nothin' like seein' blood spilt…' _

At last she raised her arms above her head, her feet started kicking, her legs moving in a rhythmic stance, pushing herself upwards, fighting the current and force of the water that pulled her down.

She broke through the surface at last, a huge gasp of air inflated her grateful lungs and she coughed and spluttered, spitting the last of the water out of her system. Pushing her hair out of her face, she looked around her, treading water she saw the black SUV that had attacked them drive away.

How long had she been down there? Long enough to convince the soldiers that they had drowned?

They…they…, Logan!

She hadn't seen him surface, she hadn't seen him beneath the water either, even as she had drifted downwards she had not seen him, had he been in the car? As she had climbed out of the window had he been in the car…was he still in the car?

_ 'Forget him…'  
_

The sudden insistence startled her, '_forget him…'_ the voice gently coaxed. '_Ya don't need him, he's holdin' ya down, literally, let the asshole drown, with any luck that adamantium skeleton of his will drag him to the bottom. Let the bastard drown…'  
_

She shook her head, unsure of what to do, the voice in her head urging her to start swimming for the bank, telling her to leave Logan behind, let him drown. The rain battered down on her, pounding into her skull as loud as the voices inside her head that raged at her.

She shut her eyes tightly, her chin dipping now and again in the water as she fought with her indecisiveness, she sputtered as she swallowed a mouthful of water, what to do…what should I do?

Marie looked across at the far bank, she could swim over there easily, climb out and walk away, leave him behind, let him drown. A final moment of hesitation was all it took before she started to swim towards the shore, her progress was slow, the muscles in her legs beginning to seize up, cramp threatening to seize her arms, the ice cold water was beginning to take hold.

If she didn't get to the embankment and climb out of the water fast her muscles would seize up completely, she would die.

_'That's it darlin' get to the edge and get the hell out of this water…'  
_

_"NO!"  
_

Marie stopped abruptly, barely a few feet away from the shore and something stopped her, a second voice, louder and yet more insistent, but soothing and familiar all the same.

She remembered that voice, she knew that voice, because she'd heard it before. Right back when all this had started, in the back of Logan's truck when she had been dreaming, the glass cages, when her desperation had threatened to drown her, that voice soothing and familiar, that voice that had sought to remind her, she wasn't alone.

She stopped, not trusting this, confusion raining down on her, not knowing what to do, or who to trust.

_"Go back…go back for him…you owe him. Marie go back for him, he needs you, could you really live with yourself if you left him out there?" _

'Who are you?' she screamed into the cold night air, what should ah do, go back or let him drown?

_"A friend…an old friend, trust me Marie…I am as much a victim of this as you…but you must trust me, go back for him, save him."  
_

Marie gritted her teeth, 'sonofabitch…' she muttered at the water, swearing at the voices in her head, two of them now, seemingly playing their own sick game with her.

_ Leave him…_

_Go back for him…_

_Leave him…leave him…  
_

'Dammit!' She turned around at last, swimming out to the middle of the river again, fighting the strain in her muscles, fighting cramp and fighting the damn noises in her head.

She took a deep breath and bracing herself dived into the water again, kicking with an energy reserve she barely knew she had, she swam downwards, glancing one way and the other seeking a glimpse of a denim clad body.

She reached the fast sinking Buick, the heavy hunk of metal appearing like an ugly sea monster in front of her, reaching for the window she glimpsed inside….nothing.

He wasn't in the car at least, she turned to swim back to the surface, and it was then that she saw something gleaming in the darkness, fighting the heavy burning in her chest she propelled herself forward, reaching out towards the shiny object that called out to her like a beacon.

Dog tags…her fingers closed around the thin chain and the gleaming pieces of metal, clasping the chain tightly she looked around her frantically, and finally saw him. Logan, he was sinking faster than the Buick, no surprise, the adamantium in his body was dragging him down.

Fresh adrenaline pumping through her veins, she swam towards him, arms and legs pumping she reached him at last, his eyes were shut and his chest barely moving, wrapping her legs and arms about him, she reached out and brushed her hand over his face. He didn't respond, panic rising within her she took him firmly by the chin and shook his head. Nothing…

Desperate she pressed her lips firmly against his mouth; prying his lips open with her tongue she passed the last of air in her lungs and into his mouth, hoping to God she wasn't just passing another mouthful of water in what must have been his already drowning lungs.

Darkness finally overcame her as her lungs finally gave up, 'come on ya big lug,' she thought, as her mind drifted shut, 'help me out here.' Her arms slackened about his waist, her grip loosened and they both sank lower, drowning together, into the bleakness, surrendering to the cold embrace of the water.

Death comes to us all.

Logan's eyes snapped open at last, even as hers were drifting shut, he caught her as her head fell back, her body giving up, the last of her breath spent to save him. His grip fierce he fought against the heaviness of his adamantium, desperate to save her now, fuelled by his need to reach the surface, to see her open her eyes again, to see her breathe again.

They broke through the surface of the water after what seemed to him like hours, he dragged her to the shore up and out of the water, taking shelter from the rain under a dense tree. Her skin a frightening shade of blue, she was frozen and deathly still. She wasn't breathing, every minute of seeing her lying lifeless was pounding away at him.

He pushed her hair out of her face, rubbing her skin to get some warmth into her, tilting her head back, he opened her mouth, closing her nose shut, he lowered his mouth onto hers, passing shuddering breaths into her mouth, watching her chest rise and fall as he did so, but only as he did so.

She wasn't breathing, two breaths…three…four…five…she wasn't breathing…breathe…goddammit Marie, just breathe.

'Fuck…' he shouted offering one last breath…still nothing. 'FUCK!!!' he screamed louder this time, his head fell forward, broken and on his knees he could only stare at her lifeless body, willing her to breathe…just breathe.

She coughed, Logan stared not willing to believe in case it was only his imagination, but she coughed again, violent convulsions as her body fought to get rid of the water in her lungs and fill up with air again.

Marie threw up the last of the water before collapsing back on the ground, too exhausted to do anything more, her whole body shivered, the cold seeping into her bones, frozen from the inside out, her teeth chattered and she drew in halting breaths through blue lips.

Logan recovered faster, peeling off his shirt and the soaked white t-shirt he wore underneath so he was bare chested and wearing only his jeans, he began to unbutton the front of the shirt she wore. Her eyes were closing; she was drifting back into unconsciousness, but suddenly became aware of his hands clawing at the clasp of her skirt, his frantic hands brushing down the length of her bare legs as he tore the material from her.

She grabbed his hands, her fingernails digging deep into his flesh, 'w-what the…the hell d'ya th-…think ya doin'?' Her teeth chattered as she struggled to speak.

Having stripped her to her underwear he reached for her shoulders, pulling her close into a fierce hug he pressed her close to his chest, she was too weak to struggle, pressing his face close to her ear, 'Ah'm the one with the healing factor remember, ah'll survive this, you won't unless you let me help you.'

He rubbed at her arms roughly, 'the water was freezing, we've gotta warm ya up or you're gonna die from hypothermia. Your clothes are soaking wet, that ain't gonna help, thing is if we warm ya up too fast, the blood's gonna rush back to your heart, and Marie your heat will explode from the pressure.'

His large hands then splayed across her back as he pulled tighter, cradling in her lap, her small form fittingly neatly into his larger frame, her arms hanging limply by her sides, he gently raised them until they wrapped about his shoulders. 'Body heat is the only way you're gonna warm up fast enough without dying.'

She gasped in shallow breaths of air, she chuckled lightly, 'g…-good, ah was thinkin' it was just y-your excuse to g…get your h…hands on m…me…'

He smiled against her neck, his lips warming her flesh with gentle kisses; she murmured softly, 'y…ya know it's the damnedest th…thing…'

'What is?' he asked her quietly.

'Ah c…could've sworn the Professor was talkin' to m…me…'

Logan drew a sharp intake of breath at her words; he pulled away from her slightly, wanting to look into her eyes as she explained her reasons for thinking that a man who had died so long ago would be talking to her now, so much of this didn't make any sense.

But her eyes were shut, she had fallen into an exhausted sleep, he sighed, pulling her flush against his chest again he lay down gently, cradling her against his body, letting his heat warm her through the night.

He smiled at the sight of her fingers gripping his dog tags tightly, the metal gleaming in her small hand.


	18. Look What Came Crawling

** Part 18- 'Look What Came A-Crawling…'  
**

Lieutenant Bishop glanced quickly at the thick red file on the seat next to him. He was driving himself, not assured with being chauffeured by a private from the base especially one with a CO like Arrington in charge. He had left the base late in the evening; the logs would show that lieutenant would cite personal reasons for leaving the base, an emergency, the illness and death of a non-existent cousin.

He had been forced to lie; nobody should know his true destination, he would address the board in complete secrecy. Arrington was a dangerous man, he commanded loyalty from those working with him, and would no doubt gut him like a fish if he ever found out what he was up to. And having come close to losing his guts once before, Bishop had grown rather attached to them.

Dusk came quickly on this side of the border, fuckin' Canada with its fuckin' retarded climate, he had hoped he wouldn't have to make a return visit but here he was again, driving along a deserted highway, pissed off at the climate, Arrington, mutants and the world in general.

What he needed was a holiday, a long sojourn out in the middle of no where, a hot, and humid nowhere. A place where the beautiful local girls wore nothing but small bikinis, with a dazzling white beach, where he could sweat like a pig under a burning sun and drink ice cold Pina coladas.

Not stuck here, the middle of fuckin' Canada where day faded into night faster than the time it took to blink, and where he was slowly driving to face a conglomerate of men with vested stakes in a project that Bishop was convinced was being headed by a madman.

They wouldn't be happy, millions of dollars had been poured into this, hundreds of man hours laying down a series of steps that would eventually see them expecting a return on their initial investments that was doubled or even tripled. To have that at risk was not an option, they had given free reign to Arrington, perhaps it was decision they would come to regret.

Bishop certainly hoped not, he had stood back and watched as Arrington had implemented his own design, never really understanding, and not being able to question the reasons, the how and why as to the abductions of Eric, by now a harmless old man thanks to the cure and the man taken from the Grampian mountains, someone who Arrington later introduced as Charles Xavier.

If Arrington's neck was going on the block for his recklessness, Bishop certainly didn't want to be next in line, perhaps if he informed the board now, before things spiralled further out of control, then just maybe the board would look a little leniently towards him.

He was still thinking of his address to the committee that he almost missed the sight of a woman waving to him by the side of the road. She was stood by a car, the hood popped open and a flashlight held tightly in her hand. Bishop almost didn't stop, but catching sight of her long blonde hair, her tight red dress and legs as long as a supermodel's in the headlights of his car made him ease off the gas and hit the brakes.

She hurried over to him, staring at her through his rear view mirror he enjoyed the view of her ample cleavage bouncing along, he smiled wryly, maybe this trip wouldn't be a total loss after all. He rolled down the window and she leaned in, 'Hi…' she uttered in a breathless whisper, 'could you help me? I was on my way to a party and the damn car just died, do you think you could look at it, I'd be really grateful…please?'

Bishop didn't need to be asked twice, 'Sure thing…' He jumped out of his car and followed her to her broken down car. She stood by him as he ducked his head under the hood, he smiled hoping to mask the fact that his knowledge of cars was amateur at best, and downright shitty at worst.

He made a show of noting all the obvious, 'the fuel line seems fine, radiator isn't overheated…' he leaned further into the car, what was it about blondes that made men think they could do the impossible? He had no idea what was wrong with the damn car, but as he looked back at her, staring for the longest while at her chest before looking up into wide blue eyes, and full red lips, she smiled and he grinned stupidly in return.

'I think it might have something to do with the jump leads…why don't you take a closer look?' She quipped softly, her words drifting through the night air, dripping seductively and carrying the softest of accents. He wondered for the longest while about both her accent and just how grateful she would be when he helped her, that it didn't occur to him to ask how she even knew what jump leads were since she had looked and confessed to being so helpless only a few minutes ago.

But Bishop like most men failed to look beyond the peroxide hair, he leaned further into the car, he barely even noticed the woman unhook the bonnet, she held the car hood in both hands, lifting it higher, smiling grimly before she slammed it down brutally on Bishop's head.

There was a loud thud accompanied by a low moan as Bishop's chin hit the engine of the car, she lifted the bonnet again before smashing it again onto the lieutenant's head, he fell to the floor heavily and lay there unconscious.

She stood over him, adjusting her dress and smiling widely, she watched as two of her companions emerged from the shadows to stand next to her.

Looked like Bishop wasn't going to be making his report after all.

* * *

'Hurt's don't it?'

Logan looked up at her, she had put her clothes back on, he still sat bare-chested, his eyes narrowed and a grim expression on his face.

She was right, it did hurt, thinking he had been betrayed by a friend, not only thinking but knowing it, they'd been betrayed, Eddie had sold them out. It was the only explanation as to how they had been found so quickly, extensive satellite navigation only worked when it had something to track.

That meant a homing device, a beacon of some sort, a tracking device much like the GPS he'd pulled from the SUV's, Eddie had done the same thing with the Buick, he'd led the soldiers right to them, and all along Logan had trusted him.

He had been shot at, and almost drowned, but worse than that he'd almost lost her again, he'd almost lost Marie, she would have died trying to save him, and in the end he was supposed to be the one with the invincibility, he was supposed to be indestructible. If it hadn't been for her he'd be lying at the bottom of the river, like the Buick, drowned and useless.

His anger got the better of him; the claws shot out; with a fierce growl he slammed his fist into the ground in front of him, the dirt kicking up angrily, his hand buried up to the knuckles. He retracted his claws at last, took a shuddering breath and placed his head in his hands.

Marie watched him quietly, before sighing, she recognised that feeling, the one where it seemed where there was no where to turn, where so called friends betrayed you and nothing made sense. She sat close to him, _'we are adrift in a world where no one is to be trusted, lost in a game where the rules are always changing.' _

The words came to her, whispering haunts in a troubled mind, it didn't sound like the professor, but _her_, trickling soft honey dew sentences.

'Look…' she spoke quietly, 'don't feel too bad, ah fell for it as well, everybody has a price…we don't know how they got to him.'

Logan stared at her for the longest while, he shook his head, with a crooked smile playing at his lips, 'Fuck…' he laughed gently.

She looked at him confused, 'What?'

'Maybe its bein' nearly drowned, but I must have water on the brain, 'cause ah swear, it almost sounds as if you're being forgiving.'

Her face set serious, a bitter edge to her tone she gritted her teeth, 'Fuck forgiving, ah ever see that lying bastar' again ah'm gonna rip his lying tongue out.'

Logan scoffed, 'Yep there she is…guess it was water on the brain.'

She sighed again, 'everybody has a price, a pressure point, maybe they found it,' she shrugged, 'either way your friend sent us up shit creek without a paddle.'

'So what now…?'

She stood up, brushing herself down as much as she could, some of the dirt clinging stubbornly to her legs, she turned and walked to the edge of the bank and stared out across the water, 'We have to split up.'

Logan startled, jumped up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head and buttoning it, he shook his head, 'uh-uh no way, not gonna happen.' He stated simply, it wouldn't happen, couldn't happen.

She turned towards him slowly, 'Apart we make a bigger target…'sides ah reckon we got the upper hand this time…'

'How's that?' he snapped angrily, she was resolute, so damn determined, thing was he knew she was right, but maybe it was the idea that she didn't need him all that much, not anymore. He recalled her words in the truck, when something else had taken over, the other part, that cold detached, hard as nails, and scary as hell part that had won through.

_She_ had made it clear, _'She doesn't need ya sugah, she's got us…'  
_

Marie smiled as she approached him slowly, 'they think we're dead, for as long as it takes them to figure out we ain't, it should buy us some time.'

He closed his eyes and nodded reluctantly, she stood in front of him and looked up at him; 'ah think we both know by now that ah can look after myself…' she turned to walk away, he gripped her arm tightly, 'Marie…' it was too much like losing her again, too much like a second, third and fuckin' fourth mistake.

Could he let her walk away, still hundreds of miles and a couple of states from New York? And no guarantee, no assurance that she would even head in the same direction, what's to say that she wouldn't go her own way, fight the soldiers on her own terms and if that was the case, could he run the risk of never seeing her again?

She stopped, allowing his grip on her arm to linger, she smiled gently, raising her other hand she opened her tightly clasped fingers. His dog tags fell from her clasp, the cold metal gleaming in the sunlight; they twirled as she held the chain between her index finger and thumb.

'Ah'm gonna hold on to these, ah expect ya to come claim them…' She moved away from him, climbing up the embankment, her boots clumping heavily into the dirt. She called out over her shoulder.

'There's a bar, jus' off highway forty-five, south of Massachusetts, it's called the 'Three Stars'…y'all will find me there.'

He stared up after her, every inch of him screaming at him to stop her going any further, screaming at him to hold onto her, this was a mistake. But he stood rooted to the spot, jus' like he had done all those months ago in his room when he had let her walk out without a fight. 'Yeah look how well that turned out ya asshole,' he swore under his breath, but short of tying her to a tree stump he wasn't gonna stop her doing what she wanted, and right now she needed to go it alone.

'The 'Three Stars'…did ya work there?' he asked again. He supposed she must have worked her way across the country, a waitress in a bar jus' what she had been doin' when he had found her again.

'Yeah Logan…somethin' like that…' she looked back and smiled widely at him, 'See ya around Logan…and be careful.'

He watched sullenly as she climbed up and disappeared through the line of trees, this was a mistake, a damn mistake.

* * *

Bishop snapped opened his eyes, his head throbbing he groaned, the fog cleared and it took precious little time for him to realise that not only was he strapped down to a gurney and bound by his wrists and feet, he was also naked.

Snapping his head left and right, a sudden panic gripping his heart he tried to make sense of his surroundings. Only there really was nothing to see, it was pitch black, the only light in the room was the sharp spotlight that hung over his head illuminating his pale skin.

His breathing grew short and rapid, a fine sheen of sweat breaking over his skin, his chest heaving a heavy weight pressing down on him, he knew the sensation perfectly, he had seen it so many times in those he'd helped to put in this exact position. Bishop panicked because knew exactly what was coming next, pain and torture, and maybe a slow, lingering death.

Sure enough, his ears caught the sound of a small squeak, the sound of wheels being turned, a trolley being pushed, and there out of the darkness came a small metallic tray of instruments, scalpel, saw, pliers…all pushed by the beautiful blonde, who was now wearing a sadistic smile and a smart nurses uniform.

He struggled against his restraints, his efforts useless as she set up the tray next to him, torturously arranging the instruments into neat little lines. A slow whimper escaped him, she stopped and looked closely at him, before smiling, and climbing atop of his lap she leaned close and whispered in his ear.

'Shhh… I promise I'm not going to hurt you…much…'

Leaning back, she took out a needle from her pocket, she held the injection up for him to see, a clear liquid in the vial.

'Do you know what this is Lieutenant?' She waited as he shook his head, 'really? You should…Sodium Pentothal…truth serum.'

She leaned in close once more, he stared wide eyed at her, her eyes flashing bright, changing briefly from the blue to a bright yellow. 'I've been reading about you Lieutenant, seems your lot have developed a nasty habit for sticking people with needles…well guess what?' She kissed him gently on the cheek, her red lipstick staining his pale skin, 'I've gotten a taste for it as well.'

She sat back once more, chuckling softly, and Bishop couldn't decide what he found the more perverse, the fact she was sat on his naked crotch as she purported torturing him, or that he couldn't help his body reacting to her.

'But you know what, I'm thinking that's too easy, let's play a little first…' pocketing the needle once more she ran her hand down the length of his right arm, slowly interlacing her fingers in his, counting off the digits before seemingly making her choice.

Taking his middle finger she held it tightly in her grasp, she smiled once more, before she began to bend the finger upwards, his hands tied down Bishop was useless to resist. He screamed louder as she increased her force, tears of pain ran down his cheeks, spittle ran from his mouth as she bent his finger all the way backwards, the bones crunching and the finger eventually snapped.

He screamed as the broken finger hung loosely, the snapped bone jutting ugly from the skin.

Grabbing him firmly by the chin, his face held tight and contorted in her hand, she shouted above his screaming and crying, 'Tell me what's in the file Bishop.'

'Why don't you jus' read the damn thing, you sick bitch!' He swore at her, whimpering and writhing in the gurney.

'Tut-tut…language...' she clicked her tongue disapprovingly, before slapping him hard across the face, 'Bishop, now come on, what would be the fun in that?'

She scratched her long fingernails down his neck leaving deep red welts as she did so, leaning into him, she licked her way up the scratches eventually resting her face next to his ear once more, he pulled away but she took hold of his hair and pulled him towards her once more.

'I'm gonna make you scream so loud and all night long baby…I can't guarantee it'll be fun for you though…' She tugged on his hair, 'but I promise you'll be begging me to stop.'

'Who are you?' he screamed at her, 'what do you want from me…?'

Her expression grew deadly serious, 'my name…now what would be exotic enough…? How about this, my name is Raven Darkholme…maybe I'll make you scream that a few times as well…let's see where the night takes us…'

She climbed off his lap and smilingly drew the tray closer, picking up the surgical saw she let it gleam in light, she saw his eyes widen and watched uncaring as he began to struggle once more, 'What I want from you is everything…all your plans, all that you've done, I want to hear all of it…and don't even think about holding out on me…' she tapped the flat of saw against Bishop's pinkie finger, 'trust me I'll know.'

Bishop's head lolled back as he threatened to pass out from the pain of his broken finger and the prospect of losing more fingers, 'Why…?' he whimpered.

'Don't you know Bishop?' she laughed tauntingly, 'Payback's a bitch…and I crawled out of hell to get mine.'


	19. So Long And Goodnight

** Part 19- 'So Long And Goodnight…'  
**

Bishop woke up suddenly, disorientated and aching with pain he stared at the now useless stumps that were his fingers and toes. How he had fallen asleep at all amazed him, his wide horror filled eyes turned to stare at the tray of instruments that was still positioned perversely close to his strapped down body.

He squinted, straining to keep his eyes open and his gaze fixed, the pain caused bright spots to shoot across his every senses, the sadistic bitch had cut off his pinkie fingers on both hands as well as the toes on both feet, she had cauterized the wounds with a screaming blowtorch, burning, singing and sealing the flesh in a show of triumphant brutality.

She had not stopped there, she had burned the flesh off every single one of his fingers including the broken middle finger, effectively rendering every single digit and consequently both his hands useless.

It would take years and months of painful surgery to correct the damage she had imposed, that was if she actually let him live long enough.

The smell of burnt flesh hung in the air, pervaded his every senses, mingling with the stink of his stale sweat and the urine that now stained his legs and had come from his fast emptying bladder.

He struggled through the odours, through the sensation of his defunct digits, his brain not quite accepting, latching to the sensation of phantom limbs, holding onto the belief that he still had every one of his fingers.

Bishop gritted his teeth at the sight of the bloodied saw, and the gleaming scalpel to settle finally on the now empty syringe, of course, the truth serum, Sodium Pentothal; she had emptied the vial into him that's why he had fallen asleep suddenly.

Every thing he knew about the drug explained what had had happened, Sodium Pentothal had no colour, odour, or taste and the victim never remembered the 'heart to heart' talk they would have with the interrogator, all they would remember was, like him falling asleep suddenly.

The events of the last hour crowded in on him, he groaned, his head had been pinned down, held fast by a huge beast of a man, hairy and with sharp fang-like teeth, the animal had growled at him as he had gripped his head in a vice like hold, huge hands that pushed his head back into the steel gurney.

She had climbed atop his lap once more, forcing his mouth open she had injected him in the tongue, ramming the needle deep into the flesh, the drug passed fastest through the muscle of the tongue and directly into the bloodstream. More importantly injections into a tongue left no mark, should a body be dumped and a post-mortem performed the coroner would find no trace of an injection.

He knew all this because how many had he tortured in a similar way, how many interrogations had he overseen, how many had he sanctioned, enough to realise that payback was indeed a bitch.

She had injected him with the truth serum; it was the last thing he remembered, how much had he disclosed and what secrets had she wormed out of him? She had wanted everything; he had pretty much spilled his guts during the torture, and in the end her use of the serum must simply have been to corroborate all that he had already said.

Oh god, what had he said…? Location…the nature of the project, those involved…what else? Everything and enough to justify that wide grin she wore as she stood over him.

She smiled down at him, leaning close she ran her fingers down his chest coming to rest on the ugly scar splayed across his lower gut. 'Nice scar Bishop…a few inches lower and you'd been marching in a whole different sort of parade.' She chuckled softly against his ear, her fingers splaying teasingly close to his cock. 'How does the Mardi Gras in New Orleans sound…?'

He twisted his head away from her, the perfume she wore was overpowering, and her soft blonde locks brushing against his shoulder offered a gentleness that belied her vicious nature.

'That's something we have in common Bishop, we've both got the same man to thank for our little scars…'

* * *

Logan sat at alone in a booth facing the door, the last thing he needed right now was being caught off guard. He reached into his back pocket and emptied the contents of his sodden and water logged wallet on the table in front of him.

A handful of folded wet dollar bills tumbled out as well as the false ID cards Eddie had made up for them. He gritted his teeth at the thought of his former friend, a sense of paranoia overtaking him.

He looked around him uneasily; aside from a trucker at the counter and an old man sat in the corner, the diner was near empty and no wonder, the back alleys had to be a cleaner place to eat than this. The table he sat at was stained with coffee and as sticky as the unwashed floor.

The seats torn and faded, the cheap leather having long lost any class it may have once upon a time had. His gaze shifted to the counter and the cooking area, a thin wiry greasy haired man was cooking up something that looked as bad as it smelled. A thick viscous brown liquid oozed off the spoon he stirred the heavy pot with.

The tiles behind the supposed cook were stained yellow with grease, this place had health hazard written all over it, the only reason Logan supposed it had escaped being shut down was because it was so far out of the way.

Still he was desperate; he had hiked along the river for the best part of the day and now barely managed to keep himself from growling at the large, chain smoking foul smelling waitress that sidled over to him. A cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth, the end fell from it onto the table in front of him as she simply leaned close and brushed the ash away and onto the floor.

Logan grimaced, pissed off, hungry and tired he might have been, but fuck it if he was gonna eat here, he ordered a coffee, black, hot and strong, deciding that maybe drinking a simple coffee wouldn't prove as big a risk as the food.

She stared down at the sodden notes, his dirty and torn jeans then decided she wasn't going to budge, 'look lady…' he spat through gritted teeth, 'all I want is a coffee and some change to use the phone.' He nodded towards the payphone hanging in the corner, perhaps the only good thing about the damn place.

He held up a soaked twenty dollar bill at her, 'It's still green, still got the face of a dead president, so how 'bout ya do us both a favour, take the money, stick it under that damn rat-infested grill ya got and dry it out. But jus' get us that damn coffee first.'

She wavered still, one eyebrow raising slowly, the ash on the end of her cigarette building again as she took a long drag, the smoke billowing out of her nose.

Logan fought the urge to flex his hands and extend the claws, he stared up at her, 'I'm gonna trust ya know what it is to have a shitty day, well believe me lady I've had a really shitty couple of days.'

She relented at last and taking the money he offered shuffled back to the counter, she came back with a pot of coffee, a dirty mug and a handful of change all of which she plunked heavily onto the table. She walked away without a word and Logan helped himself to pouring the coffee, taking a long swig he scowled, given the goddamn awful taste of the thing he wondered if he was wrong and it was possible to get some form of food poisoning from bad tastin' coffee and the bits that were floating on top.

Gathering up the contents of his wallet, he stared a while at Marie's ID, smiling wryly he shook his head, it was crazy how much had changed over the past half year since she had left the Academy. Had he not known her then he doubted he would recognise her now, in appearances, her attitude, her concept of survival, all of that she had adapted to every situation, working in a bar, fighting off sleazebags more than twice her size, drinkin' and takin' what she wanted, whenever she wanted.

And if that had meant a quick fuck in a back alley she had done even that, fuckin' without caring, taking what she wanted from the assholes.

He had met her when she was just sixteen, nothin' but a scared kid runnin' from a world that had turned upside down and inside out for her. Still she had trusted an animal like him to keep her safe, trusted him enough to climb into the back of his trailer changing both their lives.

From the moment he had met her, something in him had been awakened, an urge, a need to protect, to keep this girl safe, a sense of responsibility and a long buried hope of belonging. He had drifted halfway across the country and back again, and the only time he had moved beyond the idea that he was socially inept was when he was alongside her. With her the loneliness had ebbed, the gruffness eased and he thought he had found a kindred soul.

Their mutations hadn't always sat easy with them, he had slowly come to adapt and accept the heavy adamantium burned into his very soul, made peace with the Wolverine in inside, but not for her. She, Marie had woken and stumbled headfirst into what she felt was a nightmare and a curse, her mutation, the Rogue inside she had fought to cut away, to cure, but even that hadn't been enough.

And now their fucked up situations seemed to get more dangerous and crazier by the minute, soldiers, guns and the voices Marie was hearing. The other side of her, the personality that had confronted him, had pushed Marie back into the darkened recesses of her mind and had taken over.

That had been real,_ she _ had been real, but Marie had said that the Professor had been talking to her as well, could that have been real as well? Could it simply have been some sort of illusion on her part, an act of subconscious longing that had brought back for a few moments in their desperate seconds a man they both admired?

Logan shook his head, it seemed so unlikely, the Professor was dead, there had been a memorial service, and he had watched it all from the window of his room.

He remembered everything about that day, the way the sun had shone so perversely bright, the students gathered on the lawn as Storm gave her tearful obituary. He had watched, caught Marie's gaze as she looked up to where he was stood, knowing what she was thinking, knowing that though she mourned the Professor alongside her friends, the question was sat in the back of her mind, the idea of a cure for what was her poisonous skin. Her gloved fingers had tightened around Bobby's hand as she had held his gaze.

He had refused to answer her questions then, had failed to stop her wondering, hadn't seen it as his place to stop her, realising now as he sat in the grubby diner, that even if he had, if he had told her it was bad idea, had stopped her when she had asked him what she needed to do, had held her close and stopped her walking out that door to get the cure, to be fixed, she still wouldn't have listened.

Days or weeks later, she would have gone to the clinic all the same, and this time not bothering to ask him for an opinion. She had told him as much before they'd been driven off the bridge, 'fucked up twenty-twenty hindsight ya got Logan' she'd said; some things are beyond your control.

Shoving the wallet into the back of jeans he pushed the coffee aside and strode over to the phone. He stared at the handset, debating if this really was such a good idea. Gripping the receiver tightly he slotted the coin and began to dial. He cursed under his breath as the phone on the other end rang a few times before being answered by a familiar voice.

* * *

Bishop sat huddled in the back of the van, pushed down onto the floor he nursed his deformed hands in his lap as the jolting of the van bounced him around. Naked still and cowering at the feet of the huge animal like man that had held him down earlier in the lab, he whimpered unable to stop the images racing through his mind as he panicked about what she would do to him next.

The huge brute of a man had picked him up easily and thrown him into the back of the van, she was driving and sat beside her was a third, a strange hunched figure of a man with a sneering smile. He had stood and watched as she had injected him a second time, the sharp needle once more pushed into the fleshy part of his tongue.

They sat in the front now as the van slowly wound around what must have been a dirt track. They stopped at last and the back doors were pulled open, Bishop was pulled from the van and out into the cool night air.

He winced as the cold hit his naked flesh, his teeth chattering slightly he tried to stand but found his feet had gone numb. She grabbed him by the hair and pulled him to his feet, dragging him across the deserted road she took him to the edge of the track.

She then turned him around so he overlooked the line of trees. They were stood at the top of a steep valley, the sides running almost vertically downwards, embedded by thick growing trees and boulders, at the end he could see a busy highway, cars flowing in both directions, the white headlights merging into the red of taillights as the traffic flowed effortlessly.

She turned him around so that his foot was on the edge of the road balancing precariously, dangerously close to the sharp drop below. Once more Bishop found he had to be propped up, held up either side by the animal and the hunched man with the strange smile.

She stood in front of him her blonde locks caught by a breeze and her hands on her hips. She smiled at him as she shape shifted, Bishop could only stare wide eyed as she transformed, her clothes disappearing into blue scales, the hair changing to pitch black and her eyes to a frighteningly bright yellow.

'How do you like me now Bishop?' She asked him.

He stared at her, amazed at not only her appearance but the growing numbness that seemed to be creeping slowly up his body, he couldn't feel his legs…Oh God, he couldn't feel his legs. His panicky breath came in short rasps as the paralysis reached his waist.

'You feel it don't you Bishop, that numbness? That slow crippling feeling that's creeping up on you. It's my best cocktail yet…' She reached up and whispered in his ear, 'told you I was getting a taste for it.'

His breathing grew more laboured, a burning sensation gripping his insides, every organ seemed to be on fire, and she held his chin firmly as she looked him square in the eye. 'Pancuronium bromide…it blocks all voluntary muscles slowly, including the lungs and diaphragm…everything is shutting down Bishop, your legs, arms, lungs and eventually your heart and brain.'

She took a few steps backwards away from him, 'but wait…' she held up her finger for emphasis, shape shifting once more she transformed into the very likeness of Bishop himself!

The hair, skin, eyes and down to the military uniform itself she was the very mirror image of him, he fought to keep from retching, his head lolling forward, his eyes rolling in the back of his head, his head was yanked back and he was staring into her eyes once more.

She spoke and she even sounded exactly like him, 'It wouldn't be a cocktail without the fun stuff, a few cherries and maybe a little pink umbrella…,' she laughed and the brittle brutal sound echoed, 'I also added a touch of rat poison, with a super duper dose of Warfarin of course…'

Pressing her face close to his, she smiled hissing as she spoke, 'you know what Warfarin does right Bishop…it's an anticoagulant. You're gonna bleed out, you're going to drown in your own blood, every single capillary will burst and you'll choke on your own blood. 'But you see that trail of cars…' she pointed towards the busy road, 'that's the main highway, you manage to crawl up there you'll be able to get some help, that is if you manage to live that long…'

Saying that she pressed her lips against his, a gentle kiss that belied her viciousness, 'Now you're going to know what it means to be so helpless, just like I did with that damn cure of yours, let me tell you something….' She glared at him, 'it burns Bishop, it never stops burning.'

His whole body encased in numbness she had nothing to do but push him slightly with her middle finger, her two companions released his arms and he fell backwards over the edge, tumbling head over heels she watched as he rolled down the steep valley, bouncing against trees and boulders.

Pressing her palm flat against her lips she blew a kiss at him as he disappeared into the darkness, 'so long and goodnight Bishop.'

She stepped back and smiled widely at her two companions, Sabretooth and Toad, still in Bishop's guise she twirled around on the spot for them.

'Well boys…how do I look?' she asked them smirking.

Toad circled around her, his smile wide and leering, 'Just perfect…' he replied his long tongue whipping out and tasting the air.

She grabbed at it, smacking him away, her eyes narrowed and her expression angry, 'Yeah, well best keep your tongue to yourself Toad, or we aren't going to be able the same about you.'

He fell backwards, spitting, a smug Sabretooth laughing at him, 'Fine…' he hissed, 'we all know you only get a hard on for one man.'

Mystique smiled, 'Mmmm Logan…, now that reminds me, mustn't forget the scar…'raising her shirt she concentrated and watched as a wide ugly scar grew and splayed across her lower gut. Now she was the very mirror image of Bishop. 'First step infiltration…then we find Magneto.'

The soon to be deceased Bishop had been very helpful, giving her facts, information, location and everything else she had needed. Ironic really Bishop, the expert in torture had pissed in his pants and given up every secret he had when it was him under the knife. Mystique grinned, Bishop would have cursed the bitch whore of a mother who had brought him into this world had she asked him to.

She had no doubt he would die before he ever made it to the highway, by burning the skin from his fingers she'd ensured his body would never be identified, not least by a set of fingerprints. The fall would do enough of a number on his face, just another John Doe.

'Wanna tell me again why we're setting out to rescue the old man who abandoned us and effectively screwed us over...?' Toad asked.

Mystique stared down at him, 'Simple, so I can have the pleasure of killing the bastard myself...'


	20. The Games We Play

_A/N: Marie gets a little scary by the end of this, but hey I was listening to Velvet Revolver's song 'She Builds Quick Machines' on a loop as I wrote this and I rather like the idea of having her do some major damage next chapter. LOL_

* * *

**Part 20- 'The Games We Play…'  
**

The phone rang a few times before it was picked up and the heavy Southern tones of Mama Cherry filtered over the line.

'Is he there?' His tone filled with bitter accusation added further gruffness to his already gravelly and harsh voice.

She recognised his voice instantly and he thought he heard her stifle a short cry. Mama Cherry had always been a proud woman, as tough as they came, it would take a helluva lot to reduce her to tears, but whatever it was Logan was in no mood to hear it, he owed them nothing, least of all understanding their reasons for betraying him.

'Logan…ah'm sorry darlin',' Logan scoffed, her motherly apologetic tone was lost on him, 'Eddie had no choice…we had no…'

Logan cut her off, 'Jus' give him the phone…ah wanna hear this from him.' There was a short silence on the other end of the line as Mama Cherry sighed softly and handed the phone to the man standing next to her.

'Hey…'

Logan gritted his teeth, slamming his palm flat against the wall he cursed loudly, the rest of the inmates at the diner turning to look at him. Logan kept his back to them, concentrating on keeping his hand planted firmly on the wall, knowing that otherwise he'd be tempted to unleash his claws and punch a hole through it. And that was the sort of attention he could do without.

'You bastar'…ah hope ya got a good price for sellin' me out ya lying fuck...'

He heard Eddie sigh, 'Look ah am sorry Logan, but like Mama Cherry said we had no choice, and ya should know, ah would do the same thin' second time round.'

'Oh yeah…?' Logan could feel his knuckles tensing, 'Well here's somethin' ya should know, ya better hope to God ya never make the mistake of runnin' into me again 'cause ah'm gonna rip your fuckin' head off.'

He heard Eddie hiss in a sharp breath, 'A while ago, 'fore Mama Cherry and ah met, she was in a bit of trouble down in New Orleans, her boyfriend knocked her around, one day she decides to hit back, only she hits back a little harder than she realises. Long story short he's dead, and she's a fugitive on the run for murder.'

Logan said nothing, he was content to listen, taking everything in with a hint of scepticism, his so-called friend had lied to him before, there was nothing to say what he was offering now wasn't a load of bull.

'They were holdin' it over us, coupla hours 'fore ya rolled into town, these soldiers turn up, tell me they're gonna take Mama Cherry away, that they've got a sheet as long as my arm on me as well, and all ah had to do to make it go away was to set ya both up. There was nothin' else ah could do Logan.'

Logan waited until he had finished, the silence hung between them, oppressive and heavy, tinged with regret and bitter reprisal.

Eddie spoke quietly, 'How are ya?'

'Ya really wanna know…after bein' shot at and driven off a bridge, well ya can say ah've had better days.' Logan's reply was bitingly sarcastic.

'And what 'bout Marie…?'

His question caused Logan to bristle violently, he ground his teeth together and spoke with a low guttural voice, conveying all the pain and anger he could muster, hoping Eddie would buy it, simply stating, 'She's dead.'

He heard Eddie gasp, 'What….what happened?' He seemed to be in genuine shock.

'Aren't you listening…remember that piece on shit on four wheels ya gave us, all rigged up with that tracking device…it got driven off Sampson's Pass, we fell into the river…' Logan paused dragging out the silence, 'she drowned.'

'Oh God…Logan ah'm so sorry…they told us they were just gonna take her in…ah had no idea.'

Eddie struggled to speak, and had Logan been in a more forgiving mood he might have been inclined to give a damn, but as it was, he had no plans to forgive the old mechanic anytime soon. The simple fact remained, Eddie had sold them out, and as a consequence he had nearly lost Marie for good, that sort of mistake could not be forgiven.

'Save it…' Logan spat down the phone, 'she's dead, ah hope it was worth it, ya lying sonofabitch.' He hung up, slamming down the receiver hard.

Listening to Eddie's excuses had never been the main purpose of his call, like Marie had said, the longer the soldiers considered the idea that Marie was dead, the more time it would buy her, the bigger the advantage. He was counting on Eddie passing on the message, as well as the fact that he had been on the phone long enough for them to trace the location of the call.

He put his head down and walked out of the diner, the cold air wrapping around him, he stood for a while under the diners neon sign, bathed in a yellowing glow, making sure he caught the eye of the waitress who had served him coffee before he began walking slowly up the road.

Once certain he was out of view, he circled the diner and headed in the opposite direction, sticking close to the shadows of the dusty road, trudging along silently with one sure destination in mind, The Three Stars bar and Marie.

They'd trace the call to the diner, question the waitress, who would tell them she saw him heading north, and all that after they'd figured out Marie was still alive, he was buying them time, buying her time, hoping they'd chase him down.

* * *

Eddie sat next to Mama Cherry, her eyes wide in fear, glistening with spilled tears; he smiled at her, reassuring her that everything would now be alright. He had down what needed to be done, and he hated himself for it, but fuck, he always had and always would put Mama Cherry first.

The hollow drone of the disengaged tone hung in the air as Eddie pressed the button that took the phone off speaker. Looking up at the heavily armed soldier, his eyes narrowed and he spoke angrily, 'Ya heard what he said…she's dead.'

The soldier met his gaze unmoved; he waved over his comrade, motioning him to stand guard whilst he went to the far corner and relayed the Logan's conversation with his CO, General Arrington.

* * *

'Can't believe he'd be stupid enough to call…' The soldier spoke in a tone that meant Arrington could almost picture the smirk the idiot wore.

He shook his head, 'Not stupid…angry enough to call…'Arrington replied, his brow creased in concentration.

He listened as the soldier's voice grew serious and slightly petulant, 'Either way it confirms what Team Delta stated, that she's dead sir.'

Arrington scratched his chin; the various teams had been labelled according to Greek letters, all terribly cliché but according to standard military protocols.

'Team Delta also got shot and almost run off the road as well as stating that Logan was dead, sure as hell looks like they were wrong on that one huh soldier?' Arrington smiled, 'Sides I know for certain she's not dead.'

'Sir…?'

'She's not dead, 'cause if she were Logan wouldn't be talking about ripping his friend's head off, he would have done it by now, and then it would have been your turn soldier…' Arrington smiled widely, listening to the sound of the soldier's measured breaths as he reeled in his pride and attempted a civil answer to his superior officer.

'I still say it was pretty stupid of him to call…' he snarled.

Arrington laughed, 'Clever than you dipshit, think 'bout it, he calls in telling Eddie she's dead, he passes on the message. Meanwhile he's made sure he's on the phone long enough to be traced and in a single place long enough for someone to remember what he looks like and of course we head out over there. They point us in one direction jus' like he wants, and in the meantime he doubles back, thinking he's thrown us completely off the scent.'

Arrington was met by a confused silence, he scoffed, 'where did the call come from?'

'A diner on a dirt road, the outskirts Maine…'

Arrington interrupted before he could finish, 'Thing is, he can't know how he's really being tracked, he thinks he's buying her time, but…' suddenly Arrington laughed outright.

'But what sir…?'

The General smiled, his little girl really was growing up, a sense of pride washed over him, 'She knows what she's done…she's set him up…

'What should we do 'bout the Texan?' The soldiers question brought Arrington out of his silent reverie.

The General spoke without hesitation, 'Make sure it looks like an accident, last thing I want is the local officer Dibble making a case out this…'

'Of course sir…I understand…'

Arrington waited until he could hear Mama Cherry's screams before he hung up the phone. He sat back in his chair staring at the empty walls.

'What game are you playing Marie and how come you've not let our ol' friend Logan in on the rules?'

* * *

Marie wandered into the bar, smiling as a wave of familiar smells and sights hit her, she slid onto the bar stool easily casting an easy eye about her. She'd been lucky managing to thumb a lift with an old man, the back of his pick-up had been a bumpy ride but she'd found good company with his playful dog, and then a lady trucker who had dropped her off barely a few miles from the Three Stars Bar.

From then on it had been a simple case of slipping into the backyard of one of the local condos and taking a much needed change of clothing from a washing line. A washed pair of black jeans, a white shirt and she was looking the most civilised she had done in a couple of days. Her own dirty skirt and tattered shirt was dumped into a trashcan.

The Three Stars bar sign had loomed welcomingly in the distance, and her steps had quickened as a result, this was one of the first places she'd drifted into after leaving the Academy and she'd loved everything about it.

From the long bar that stretched from one end of the room to the other, the stage, the loud music that pumped out of its walls and the pool tables. She'd hustled a lot of money playing pool with guys who'd mistaken her smile and underestimated her small stature; she'd beaten many of them hands down in a drinking contest for the same reasons as well.

Now as she sat at the bar and waited for the bartender to serve her she assessed everything about the room and its inhabitants, it was still early, a few truckers sat talking in the corner, some roughnecks at the pool table steadily getting drunk and missing easy shots, and a quiet neat looking man in a business suit, probably settling for a quick drink before he got home to the missus, Marie smiled widely, so many to choose from, easy pickings.

The bartender strode up to her at last, he noted the bangs of white hair and mischievous smile and decided he liked her already, it had been a slow day, seeing someone as pretty as Marie walk in made it helluva lot better.

'Hey stripes, what can I get you?' He leaned across the bar, Marie smiled sweetly even as he reached up and with the tip his fingers gently flicked her hair.

She laughed, 'Stripes huh? Well that's original…' she scoffed. 'Ah'll take a whiskey, neat…and ah ain't too particular 'bout the brand, jus' make sure it sets my throat on fire.'

He turned and poured a shot into a glass before sliding the drink across to her, she threw the liquor down her neck in one easy gulp, his eyebrows arched in surprise. Even the truckers looked up from their beers clearly impressed.

'Right,' the bartender remarked, 'you had that kinda day too huh?'

Marie shook her head as she set the glass down, 'Nope, that kind of life….' She pointed towards the empty glass, 'stick another one in there, and make sure it's a double this time.' She waited until he complied before turning around in her stool; she took up the glass and nodded towards the man in the suit, 'ya can charge him for it, he'll be more than happy to pay.'

The bartender could only smile as she softly made her way over to his table, undoing another top button of her shirt, making sure the lace of her bra was showing, he watched as she sat down confidently, leaning in close, and watched as the business man's eyes lit up.

* * *

She sat alone on the bed, the pink neon sign of the Three Stars casting a reddish hue in the room. The bar had been converted from a warehouse, the ground floor serving as the bar and the other floors as accommodation.

By that first evening she had fleeced the businessman with the promise of a quick fuck in the bar bathrooms making sure he was too smashed to be anything more than grateful, not lasting more than a couple of minutes, but more than enough for Marie to help herself to the thick wad of cash he was stupid enough to carry around with him.

She had also managed to hustle the drunken pool players, smiling as she pocketed the eight ball and took their fifty dollar bills, they really were too easy.

That money had seen her able to rent a room for a couple of nights, a room above the Three Stars, she'd stayed there before, she knew the access and exit points of the bar like the back of her hand, knew how the room were laid out, knew there was a stairwell to the rooms from the outside of the bar.

Still she had gone over the place, every point of entry, walking the steps like a seasoned recon soldier. Making sure she counted the number of steps from the end of the stairwell to her room, checking windows and doors, covering every angle.

Having gone on to first purchase a small gas canister, the kind used on camping trips, a screwdriver and wire strippers from the local hardware store, only then had she sat down on the bed.

She'd also managed to track down a small electrical travelling clock and a battery powered radio. Her haul she had carried to her room locking the door behind her, sat down on the bed and began to work.

Her fingers worked almost mechanically, taking apart the alarm clock, everything coming easily to her, aware only of the voice that hummed sweetly in her ears, the voice that promised revenge, the images of blood being spilt.

Marie smiled as she stared at the dog tags she hung on the cheap mirror catching her reflection as she did so, Logan would bring them to her, she had made sure of it. They would come, Kevlar vested, heavily armed and she would be ready.

They would come, and she would make them beg for her mercy and she would offer none. She got back to work, her small lithe hands working expertly and her smile growing wider…


	21. Mirror Messages

_A/N: Bonus points for getting the song__title and artist...:)_**  
**

**Part 21- 'Mirror Messages…' **

Logan stared up at the neon sign that blinked in the cool night, the red outline of a woman reclining on the letters spelled out the name of the bar, 'The Three Stars', the last word spelled with a 'z'.

It had taken him almost two days to reach the place, alternating between hitchhiking and walking, only stopping off at the odd diner and bar to get something to eat. Getting to the Three Stars had been the uppermost thought in his mind, get to the bar, get to Marie and hopefully convince her to go back to the Academy.

The sense of paranoia had reached its height when he'd been on the open road; every car driving behind was met with suspicion, every driver that passed he viewed with narrow eyes, peering into their windows convinced the next truck or SUV would be driven by soldiers, Kevlar clad and aiming their guns at him.

But nothing had happened, no fucked up car rides, no truckers shooting at him and no black SUV's following behind. Yet even that made things worse, filling him with the question, 'had he really thrown them off the scent, or maybe they weren't following him 'cause they'd found and were following Marie…?'

Either way his need to make it to the Three Stars had grown into an itch under his claws, one he found impossible to scratch away.

Now as he stared up at the sign, the music pounding away inside, the sounds of laughter and drinking filling the air, the first few drops of a cold rain hit his grizzled unshaven cheeks. He growled, it had been a miserable winter, now it looked certain to be a miserable summer as well.

The few drops turned into a steady drizzle as he stood watching the door of the bar swing open and shut as it's pissed up patrons left propped up by laughing, giggly peroxide blonde bar fly's whose fish net stockings and short skirts promised a whole different kind of fun, the kind that could be bought by a coupla drinks and a few green dollar bills.

He stepped forward ready to step inside the bar and find Marie, expecting her to be working as a waitress, The Three Stars yet another shit hole she seemed to have drifted into.

'Hey baby … ya lookin' for some fun …?' The soft voice drifted over to him and stopped him in his tracks, he peered into the darkness at the side of the bar, a young girl, probably no older than Marie sat on the metal stairwell that wound it's way around the outside of the building.

She stood up and approached him slowly, under the dim streetlight; her smile was punctuated by her ruby red lipstick. Her sandy blonde hair was pulled into two pony tails either side of her head, eyes darkened by heavy sweeps of mascara.

She wore a tight leather halter neck top; the material pulled taught against her breasts, a short red skirt finished the outfit, long bare legs that disappeared into a pair of knee length black inch high heel boots.

She bent forward at the waist, the little girl pout practised to perfection. He smiled at her appearance, as innocent and as sweet as she could manage, knowing that some guys got off on that sort of thing, the idea of fucking girls young enough to be their daughters, slap a school uniform on her and Logan reckoned this girl would have been some dirty old man's wet dream.

He laughed slightly as he shook his head, 'Not tonight darlin' and not with you…' He turned away but she was stood before him once more. Her hands on her hips she stuck a lollipop in her mouth and smiled even wider.

Sucking on her candy, the whole seduction scene doing nothing for Logan, she stepped closer to him. 'Good answer, she's a feisty little thing; I ain't for getting my eyes scratched out…'

Logan looked at her closely, his breath catching in his throat at her words, 'Ya talkin' 'bout Marie…?' he asked her his voice insistent and sharp.

She nodded, 'Yep, she's awful territorial, and lookin' at you I can see why…' she licked her lips, smiling at him all the time, the moisture on her lips shining. 'Round here we call her Stripes…'

Logan arched an eyebrow, she shrugged her shoulders, 'I'm Candy by the way…' she smiled popping the lollipop back into her mouth with a satisfied smack of the lips.

Logan laughed a little at that, 'Of course you are darlin'…'

She was barely inches away from him. 'You're Logan right?' She surveyed him up and down, her hand brushing up his arm; she tugged gently on his hair, 'weird hair style, built like an ox and looks like Hugh Jackman on a good day, that's what she said.'

She leaned up and whispered, 'She was wrong you know…, you're much better looking.' Reaching inside her top she stepped back and fished out a set of keys. He caught them easily as she threw them in his direction. Pointing up the stairs, 'room thirteen,' she stated. She offered him one last smile before she disappeared into the darkness.

* * *

His boots clanged heavily on the metal stairwell as he made his way to the room Candy had pointed him toward. He could hear the false laughter and moaning of a girl behind some of the closed doors he passed.

The smell was pervasive; it clung to the night air like a cheap blanket, and mingling with the moisture from the rain. It was far from a pleasant smell, puke and piss, cheap beer and even cheaper perfume, this was where bar fly's took their pay packets. Behind these closed doors, in these cheap rooms the whores made good use of their john's.

And it was all so painfully familiar; he'd made use of these rooms, made use of the cheap fucks that could be found in a bar like the Three Stars. He hated the idea that Marie could now be familiar with a place like this. It was hard to think of her as just that nineteen year old girl anymore, she was tougher, bitter and seemingly used to finding herself at home in horror shows like this.

'Stripes'…, that was what she was calling herself and Logan had to wonder if she was working the same gig Candy obviously was. Had she remade herself into some dirty old man's wet dream? He gritted his teeth at the idea.

He found room thirteen at last, turning the key in the lock he had to give the door a few firm pushes before it would open. Stepping into the room he reached for the light switch, it clicked on and off but nothing happened, he stared up at the wire hanging from the centre of the room, no light bulb. Still it seemed the red glow from the sign outside was enough once his eyes adjusted.

_Yeah  
Run and kill  
Destroy the will  
A hero that doesn't exist  
Yeah…  
_

_Smoking gun  
Well I am the one  
A bullet hole  
In your fist  
Yeah…  
_

Logan looked around him at the source of the music; a small battery powered radio was tuned into the nearest heavy metal station. Aside from a shirt and a pair of black jeans littering the floor, a single sorry looking bed and a small bedside table, the only other furniture in the room was a full length mirrored wardrobe pushed to one side of the room.

He stood in front of it and read the message Marie had sprawled for him in lipstick over the glass surface._'Hey 'bout time ya made it. Come down to the bar, dump any stuff ya have right here, leave the radio playin', less likely to get broken into and robbed that way. M.'_ . She'd finished the short message off with a red x.

_Hey, I'm breathing  
Hey, I'm bleeding  
Hey, I'm screaming  
Scum of the earth  
Come on…  
_

Logan shook his head and sighed, yep she sure had a way of walkin' into the worst sort of shit holes, not a lot unlike him.

_Wake up dead  
Bleeding red  
A world that doesn't exist  
Yeah…_

_Heaven waits  
With the gates  
Rusting in the mist  
Yeah…  
_

He left the radio playing, the last of the song thrashing out its chords, filling the near empty room with its thudding beats.

* * *

Logan sat down heavily at the bar, the place was heaving, sweaty bodies pressing up against each other, loud music thumping out over the sound of clinking glasses and laughter.

He ordered a Molson and drained half the bottle in one grateful gulp. Looking around the bar he had half expected to see Marie moving between the tables serving the drinks and flirting like hell just as she had been doing when he'd found her at Starkey's.

But even his keen eyes couldn't pick out the two tones of her hair, her familiar long legs amongst the crowd of girls, she wasn't serving, maybe she had the night off, and if that was the case he was sure she'd be sat at a table, getting one of these assholes to pay for her drinks no doubt.

He turned his attention to the crowd dancing out on the floor, the strobe lights threw bodies into light and blue shadow, offering him glimpses of short skirts, wandering hands and jumping legs but nothing of Marie.

Instead he caught sight of Candy; she was leading a short fat, sweaty bald man through a doorway of pink beads at the far end of the bar. She caught his eye, the trademark lollipop stuck between her lips; she smiled and winked before she disappeared with her latest pay packet.

Suddenly the whole bar was thrown into darkness as every light in the bar was dimmed, the music stopped, and three spotlights were thrown onto the far end of the stage, they swept down along a makeshift runway, out into the middle of the tables where they ended, the sharp spotlight picking out the gleaming metal of poles.

The light then swept back upwards to the stage, where three shapes stood behind opaque screens. The music started up as the three girls took up provocative stance, their shadows moving provocatively, the girls sensually dropping slowly to the floor before the speed of the music changed and the screens were raised.

A loud roar went up around the bar as the girls finally came into view, Logan's eyes narrowed as he stared at the main attraction of The Three Stars bar, the long legs, the familiar hair…


	22. Show And Tell

_A/N: A stripper, a Marilyn Manson song and casual drug use...and they said I'd never make a model citizen._**..  
**

**Part 22- 'Show And Tell…' **

_'Sometimes I feel I've got to  
Run away I've got to  
Get away  
From the pain you drive into the heart of me  
_

_The love we share  
Seems to go nowhere  
I've lost my lights  
I toss and turn I can't sleep at night…'  
_

She strode purposefully down the centre of the walkway, knee high stockings, black leather short shorts and barely concealing leather top, laced all down the front, stopping just above her mid riff.

Black stilettos clicked together as she stopped halfway; pulling the brimmed hat she wore further down her head, hands encased in long leather gloves ending in long pointed sharp nails, her lips moistened and shining underneath the lights were curled into a seductive smile.

Logan had been wrong, she hadn't turned herself into the fantasy of a dirty old man, she'd turned herself into the fantasy of a hundred dirty old men, all now with hands down their pants and practically drooling, lips hung on the edge of the stage, panting away.

His teeth gritted as she caught his gaze, layered heavily with mascara and shimmering slightly, she licked her lips as she swayed from side to side, hips punctuating every beat of the music, tongue teasingly ran along the tips of her fingers, hands blazing a path slowly down her neck, across her breasts, tapping gently across the flat of her stomach, before slowly dipping between the apex of her thighs.

She smiled and bit her lip as she sashayed to the floor, her back arching, hands running down her thighs as she balanced on her heels, spreading her knees outwards and swaying slowly.

_'You don't really want any more from me  
To make things right  
You need someone to hold you tight  
You think love is to pray  
I'm sorry I don't pray that way…'  
_

Raising herself slowly to her feet, her head bowed she rushed the rest of the way down the stage, arms and legs wrapping effortlessly around the pole as she jumped and clung to the metal, sliding downwards slowly, the inside of her thighs rubbing down the cold hard steel.

Her legs unwrapped as she got closer to the floor, stiletto heeled shoes spinning slowly in wide circles as she finally reached the bottom. She rolled her hips, crawling to the edge of the stage, hanging from her finger tips as she gave the audience a paramount view of her cleavage.

Breasts pushed together she swung her hair from side to side before flipping on to her back, legs pushed upwards to her knees, before she spread them wide, running her fingers up her thighs she balanced her legs in the air, spread eagle and wanting.

_'Don't touch me please  
I cannot stand the way you tease  
I love you though you hurt me so  
Now I'm going to pack my things and go  
_

_Touch me baby, tainted love  
Touch me baby, tainted love  
Touch me baby, tainted love…'  
_

Thrusting her hips upwards she pushed herself up to her elbows, and then braced herself on her hands, reaching for the pole she pulled herself upright and to her feet. Spinning around and around the pole, one arm grasping the metal, hips thrusting in time to the music, grinding against the pole.

She stared at his direction under hooded eyes, Logan straining to keep his anger in check, gripped the beer bottle tightly. She was still slightly in shadow, the spotlight aimed from behind the stage, blinding him slightly as he stared down the crowded room.

Gritting his teeth, he watched as she smiled, the hat obscuring her features only her glistening lips and her laughing mouth visible to him. The rest of her face overshadowed, and Logan suspected the assholes in this place weren't exactly trying to figure out the colour of her eyes.

Still holding the pole she reached for the lace front of her top with one hand, her fingers gripping the thin straps teasingly, before a further roar from the crowd saw her pull the material away. The top fell away revealing satin sheen underwear, material silky and sensual, moving as smoothly as she did.

_'Once I ran to you (I ran)  
Now I'll run from you  
This tainted love you've given  
I give you all a boy could give you  
Take my tears and that's not nearly all  
_

_Tainted love  
Tainted love  
Tainted love…'  
_

Dancing effortlessly to the rhythm of the music she reached for the buttons of her shorts, undoing each one slowly, she peeled the top of the material away to reveal the top of her panties, driving the crowd wild as she turned her back on them bent over at the waist and hooking her fingers in the waistband of the shorts pulled the material down.

Slowly, so slowly the shorts rubbed down her thighs, wiggling her ass she rolled the leather downwards over the stockings, leaving the shorts to pool at her feet, stepping out of them she kicked them away.

Stood now only in the hat, stockings, stilettos and underwear, the spotlight suddenly shifted to illuminate all of her and Logan was given full view of her. She had her back to the crowd still, one knee hooked up and around the pole, Logan saw her clearly for the first time or at least the back of her, above the black g-string panties, and when she turned around climbing up the pole, reaching backwards to hang upside down in a death defying pose, the hat fell away from her head and he smiled.

The two tone hair wasn't the right colour, not streaked natural white, but red, this girl had red highlights, she may have been the same height as Marie, same build even but this wasn't her. She didn't have the tattoo splayed across her lower back, no bleeding skull being strangled by snakes.

Fuck, he doubted he had been more relieved of anything in his life, and almost ashamed to say horny as hell, the idea that it could have been Marie, dancing as she stared at him, the idea frustrated and thrilled him.

Something at the far end of the bar caught his eye, he half turned to look at the booth in the corner of the bar. And then he saw her, her white streaked hair, those long limbs, those beautiful legs and that tattoo. No mistake this time…Marie.

* * *

She was pushed into the corner of the booth, propped up on her elbows, her legs wrapped around a guy who had his face buried in her neck. Her short skirt was riding up about her waist; her top pushed upwards exposing her bra. She arched her back pressing her breasts up and firmly against his chest, her hands under his shirt and on the nape of his neck buried in his hair, she smiled wickedly. 

And as always she could almost sense Logan's presence in the room, she caught his gaze and her smile grew, she held his gaze even as she whispered in the ear of the man draped all over her.

The asshole in question pulled back away from her, she kissed him deeply, and he grinned and grabbed a handful of Marie's breast before reaching for something in his back pocket. Logan watched it all, just as she wanted him to, his face grew into a darkened scowl, but she simply smiled and blew him a kiss.

He growled loudly, startling the guy who was sat drinking next to him. Logan's claws itched, and he fought to control the urge to slice something open, the Wolverine inside screaming at him to go and spill the guts of the asshole pawing all over Marie.

Instead he took another swig of his beer, draining the bottle and sending it clattering back on the bar behind him. Logan stared as the guy removed a small plastic packet from his back pocket, Marie smiling all the while, her chocolate brown eyes glistening as he dangled the packet in front of her.

He couldn't have been anything more than a college senior, but Logan's rage and blood boiled all the same as the prick removed a small white tablet from the packet and placed it on Marie's ready and waiting tongue. She swallowed and did the same for him, a small tablet placed on the base of his tongue, she closed her eyes and kissed him again, deeper this time, pushing him upwards, until he was sat upright and she was straddling his lap.

She leant in close and Logan believing he knew exactly what would come next, turned away, it practically killed him to watch her like this. But what had he expected, had he really thought she would change? He'd been wrong, all that they had been together the past few days, hadn't changed anything about the way she saw him.

To her he was that asshole, that friend who had pushed her away when she had needed him the most, and now, now what? She hadn't changed, stronger, tougher, as much as a bitch as she ever was, never mind that she had saved his life, down in the river, when she had pulled him from drowning, nothing had changed and it had meant nothing.

He ordered a whiskey, double and neat, growling deep in his chest, the image of her wrapping herself around that guy, practically screwing him right there in the bar was burned into his memory. He screwed his eyes tight, wanting it to die, wanting it to fade away, willing, and aching to forget.

* * *

'Enjoy the show…?' 

He opened his eyes at the soft voice, a familiar Southern lilt, her scent pervading every one of his senses until he thought he would drown in it. Drown in her; helpless just as he had been in the river, only she wasn't saving him this time, she was slowly killing him.

Drowning with her, drowning in her, the scent of her, the soft voice tinged with all its bitterness, drowning in the images burned deep within him, flashes of memory, of her laughing, screaming at him, teasing him, killing him.

He gripped the glass tightly, hissing in a breath, he turned to her with a cold smile, 'that depends, which show was ah supposed to be watching?' he asked her.

Marie stared at him unflinching, 'whichever one works for ya sugah…'ordering her drink seven-seven straight up, and draining the glass in two quick gulps she slid the glass across the bar and towards him.

Logan caught it before it fell to the floor; he looked up at her as he fished his dog tags out of the bottom of the glass. Shoving the chain in his back pocket, he ordered another whiskey.

'You make a habit of popping pills with strangers…?' he asked her quietly, the anger and disappointment in his voice clear. Marie smiled, passing a hand through her hair, shaking the locks free; she then took up a straw from its holder on the bar and began to twist it around her fingers.

'A coupla tabs of 'E' does not a drug habit make Logan…' She laughed slightly as she reached for something in her boots, taking out a wallet she pulled out every last green dollar. Counting the money quickly she separated a few notes she handed it to the barman, who took it with a grin, 'seventy- thirty…right?'

The barman nodded his agreement, pocketing the money Logan watched as he lined up another drink for the both of them and chucked the wallet into a box jokingly marked the lost and found. Another cool Molson for him, while she opted for another round of the seven-seven, Logan stared at her as she replaced her half of the money into her boots.

Turning around on his stool Logan saw the college kid being dragged out of the bar by a heavy bouncer, shouting loudly the kid claimed he had been robbed, the bouncer not caring, 'you're done kid, get the fuck outta here.'

Dragging him by the shirt he chucked the kid out on his ass, like an age old Western. Logan turned back to Marie who was laughing quietly, her shoulders shaking slightly as she enjoyed herself.

'Dumb-ass college kids, blue blooded and rich as hell, but thick as shit. They're so damn easy it ain't even funny, most they've known of a gal is their Playboy centrefolds, their blow up dollies, or the hard on they get for their best friend's moms.' She shook her head, 'Shake a pair of real tits in front of them and they're practically drooling…'

Logan shook his head, 'Well guess ah wouldn't know 'bout that…'

She laughed, 'Nope, ya really wouldn't.' She turned around on her and watched as the stripper began to remover her bra, she caught Logan's gaze and smiled, 'She's good isn't she, her name's Abby or Sunset Strip if ya can stomach anything so corny…'

He drank his beer and mumbled, 'Yeah, well ah was half expecting ya to be up there…Stripes.'

Marie stared at him a while before she smirked, 'Dancing, wrapping myself around a pole while a group of hands on perverts stick a couple of ten's and twenty's down my g-string…no thanks, too much like hard work. Ah prefer the easier gigs…'

'What…the drugged up college kids…?'

She nodded at his remark, 'They're all marks Logan, every last one o' them, easy marks, the fat bald guy who can't get anywhere without payin' for it, the dumb-ass college kids lookin' for a little experience, and these assholes…' she pointed behind her at the crowd whistling at Sunset strip as she got rid of her stockings, 'getting' off on watching girls strip, thinking that an easy lay with a whore makes up for the fact that their wives jus' don't appreciate how hard they work.'

She added the last remark with a sarcastic tone. 'They're pathetic, with their needs, easy marks, every single one of them.'

Logan stared at her over his bottle, 'that why ya hopped on the happy pills, jus' to remind yourself you're in charge, you're in control right Marie, they're the marks, the john's…the asshole's you fuck for an easy hundred.'

Marie laughed, 'An easy hundred huh? Logan, are ya really gonna sit there and analyse the shit out of this? The 'E' ain't a regular thing; its jus' tonight ah need to stay sharp.'

'Yeah…why's that?' He asked her, not entirely convinced. She picked up her glass and twirled the liquor around and around. Her words came in hushed tones he strained to hear.

'Ya brought along some not too friendly ghosts with ya…they followed ya here Logan.' She was referring to the soldiers, the ghosts they'd struggled to shake off the past week. He shook his head, he'd been careful, it was impossible he'd checked and double checked, there had been no-one there, no one following, she had got it wrong, she just had to have it wrong.

'Shit…' he stared at her, 'I called Eddie, thought I'd been doing the right thing, buying us some time. They must have figured it out…I let them trace the call, made one set of tracks and doubled back…shit…'

She leaned closer and smiled at him, 'Don't worry 'bout it, it wasn't somethin' ya did Logan, it was me, ah did it.'

'What are you sayin'?' he turned to face her fully the gap between them closing to mere inches. She sat there unmoved.

'Ah made sure they'd follow ya, ah needed the time to make sure ah was ready…ah needed ya to bring them to me.' She explained, but every word seemed to confuse him all the more.

'You made sure…?' he asked, 'how...?'

'They weren't jus' tracing your call Logan…and they weren't jus' trackin' the car. Think 'bout it, things happen to cars, they fall off bridges, they break down, they get abandoned, nope it wasn't the Buick Logan, think….' She insisted, 'what else did Eddie give ya, 'sides from the car?'

He thought about it, hard and fast, thinking back to the time in Eddie's garage, seeing in his mind's eye, seeing Eddie throw him the car keys, and what else? The money…and the ID cards…

He stared at her his eyes wide, reaching for his back pocket he pulled out his wallet, rooting frantically inside he took out the ID cards and threw them onto the bar…pieces of plastic that suddenly spelled a shit load of trouble.

'What did ya do Marie…?' His voice bespoke all the anger and frustration he felt, at her, at himself and towards the whole fucked up situation. She didn't answer him, instead she reached across the bar, gesturing to the barman she called out to him to hand her the knife he used to cut up the lemons for the margaritas.

She caught it easily by the handle, turning the knife around she used the point of the blade. Pushing it into the corner of one of the ID cards she slid it between the two sheets of thin plastic, moving the knife slowly, gently backwards and forwards she carefully peeled the ID card apart.

And there it was, an electronic chip, so small and easily concealed and clearly hi-tech. She held the card up for him giving him a clear view of both the chip and the cold smile she wore. 'Boys and their toys…' she stated.

'You knew…and you set me up?' It was a question he wished would have a different answer than the one he was going to hear.

She nodded, 'Ah knew…'

He didn't wait for her to finish, 'Ya used me as bait?' he spat at her. 'That crap 'bout letting them think ya were dead, ya fed me a line?'

She shrugged her shoulders, 'If it's any consolation you look so pretty in a trap…'

He hated her, fuck how he hated her then, stupid mistake, to trust her, all the pain she was willing to put them both through, the sick games she was playing, fuck, he should have seen through it. When she'd insisted she needed to go alone, the lies she'd told him and he'd gone out of his way to believe her, wanting, aching to believe that she needed him.

He almost reached for her throat then; she smiled as his hands flexed, claws itching to wipe that smirk off her face, for the first time in his life seriously contemplating violence against her, Marie…just not his little Marie anymore.

Instead he settled for cursing at her, 'You're a cold hearted bitch Marie…'

'Course ah am Logan…but hey, ah learned from the best, ya weren't always so kind yourself…' she whispered in his ear. She got up and turned to walk away. 'Ah gotta go use the bathroom…stick around, tonight's gonna be interesting.'

* * *

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, mascara brimmed eyes staring back at her, adrenaline coursed through her veins, the last two days anticipating almost itching for a fight. 

It had worked perfectly, her plan, bringing him here, still she couldn't shake the image of Logan's hurt and disappointment, 'You're a cold hearted bitch Marie…' she whispered to herself.

_' Damn right kid…but ain't nothin' to regret in that, ya done good, jus' a little bit longer, least Logan knows where he stands now...'  
_

Turning on the cold tap she took a few quick gulps of water, she splashed some water on her face, smudging and scrubbing away at the make-up with a few paper towels she had grabbed from the dispenser.

Splashing her face one more time, she felt the cold liquid hitting her and cooling her burning skin and the pleasant buzz slowly building in her mind as the drugs and alcohol took their effect.

Raising her face slowly from the sink she watched out of the corner of her eye as another woman entered the bathroom, high heels and short skirt, she clutched her bag tightly, teetering slightly on her heels, she flashed Marie a big grin, red lipstick lips parting to show a set of sparkling teeth.

Marie offered a slight smile in return, watching the woman's reflection in the mirror as she made her way down the stalls, something unnerved her, all sorts of alarm bells went off, there was something different, something she was unable to place about this particular bar fly.

The whispers in her mind went into overdrive…'_She was too quick to smile, too ready to make sure ya didn't see her as a threat…big mistake darlin'…'  
_

Marie smiled, eyes set hard as she watched the woman turn around and reach for something in that handbag of hers, eyes unwavering as she caught the sight of the muzzle of a gun.

_Go get her kid…'  
_


	23. The Point Of No Return

** Part 23- 'The Point Of No Return…'  
**

Marie raised her hands slowly above her head, the universal gesture of surrender. She stared at the mirror as the woman with the gun approached slowly from behind, her Magnum handgun now held in her extended arms, pointed directly at the back of Marie's head.

_'A woman…makes sense, in an armed unit, a covert op like this women can blend in easier, ask questions, more approachable…the fairer sex and all that. Women are more likely to trust another woman…good thing ya don't trust anyone right kid…?'  
_

Marie sighed gently as the voices assessed every angle of the situation, her mouth twisted in a cold knowing smile she watched as the woman came within barely a few feet of her. Her gun arm was steady, not the slightest twitch, she was a pro, from the steady gaze in her heavy mascara lined eyes, her widened stance, even down to the clothes she wore.

She would have blended in perfectly out there, just another bar fly, looking for another john, the only thing marking her out now was the way she cocked her gun, and raised it slowly jutting it into the base of Marie's neck, standing close enough for Marie to catch the whiff of her perfume.

'Too easy…' she whispered, and Marie simply laughed out loud, nodding her head she agreed, 'ya have no idea…' she smiled back.

She felt the gun slip a little, the woman's grip slacken slightly as Marie's reaction threw her a little. It was only momentary; a single lapse in judgement but it was all Marie needed.

She turned quickly, a quick flick of the arm and Marie bought down her fist on the woman's wrist, the force of her hand and the speed of her reaction throwing the soldier off guard, she stumbled backwards slightly as the gun fell from her hand.

Marie kicked the weapon away, the Magnum skidding away with a sharp screech across the tiled floor. Barely giving her attacker a chance to recover Marie grabbed her forearms and pulled her towards herself; pulling her head back slightly, she suddenly snapped her head forwards and slammed her forehead into the woman's nose.

She screamed clutching at her bloodied face, Marie smiled as she stepped behind her grabbing a fistful of the woman' dirty blonde hair, she pulled her head back, before ramming her into the mirror.

The glass shattered at the point of impact, Marie untangled her hand from the woman's hair and watched as she slid slowly to the floor, barely conscious and bleeding heavily now from both her nose and head.

Marie watched as the barfly moaned and rolled onto her side, she revelled in the obvious gasps of pain from the woman now lying at her feet. Turning around she went looking for the gun.

Raising the Magnum in her right hand, she regarded the weapon curiously; deadly steel, fitted and shaped it seemed to sit perfectly in the palm of her hand. Stepping quickly across the tiled floor she knelt down to the woman, gun held tightly in one hand.

She yanked her head up with one hand, 'now look at that darlin'; ya barely even got a chance to bleed on me…' she slammed her head back to the floor, a loud guttural groan accompanying the force she used and the damage Marie had inflicted.

Marie lifted her hand, the gun gleaming under the single fluorescent bathroom light; drawing her arm back she swung the butt of the gun firmly across the woman's jaw. It connected solidly as she saw her body twitch violently before it stilled altogether, she was knocked out.

Marie stood up and stepped over the body, walking steadily to the bathroom door, barely glancing back at the mess she'd made.

_'Shit…that's cold darlin'…' _Marie heard them smile, knowing the voices in her head approved.

* * *

Marie stepped out into the crowded bar once more, walked into a cacophony of noise that now just seemed to drift over, the world had drifted into a series of monochrome shades, black and white, with the occasional shade of violent red. She shook her head swiftly from side to side and watched the colours fade back into existence. 

Every one of her senses were heightened, adrenaline and energy coursing through her veins, heart thumping a hundred miles an hour, anticipation and hunger, the ache for a fight growing into an unbearable itch. She could smell them, hear them, feel them in the room; her eyes scanned the faces wilfully seeking them out.

The unnecessary noise of the bar, the cheering, drinking and talking she drowned out around her until she was aware only of the sound of her heels tapping across the floor. Purposefully striding out to the middle of the bar, she stood in between the tables, quick glances left and right, watching and waiting for them to betray their positions.

They stood up almost simultaneously, at least three of them; she smiled, stretching her neck left and right, an audible cracking of the bones as she did so. She stood feet shoulder width apart, one hand placed defiantly on her hip, the Magnum handgun tucked into the back of her skirt, pulling her hair up and into a messy ponytail.

_' Time to make them bleed…'_

* * *

Logan watched as she stepped out of the bathroom, something was different, he saw the cold smile she wore, the distant far away look in her eyes, he'd seen that look before, in the forest, when he'd watched her limp over to the SUV, that deadly look in her eyes, that look that swore she was in the middle of a war. 

He remembered that look, those words, in that madness that had seen her hold a gun under his chin, an aching, bitter voice, that other part of her that Marie had promised him was gone.

Logan stood up quickly, pushing his stool back as he saw her stand in the middle of the bar, smiling and hand on her hips. He saw three others do the same, standing quickly they were scattered across the bar, tall men, caps pulled low over their eyes, their chests padded out unnaturally. Kevlar clad soldiers, trained experts here in a crowded bar. Logan growled low, talk 'bout a shit load of trouble.

His eyes snapped quickly to meet hers, he saw Marie nod, that cold smile, those calm collected darkened irises holding his gaze, and he realised that hell she was talking about, it wasn't just coming, turned out it was already here.

He evaluated the risks, they wouldn't compromise their mission, whatever that was, and they wouldn't risk an open fire fight, this bar was too full, too many witnesses, too many people willing to ask too many questions. Nope, they'd have to do this carefully, take her outside without attracting too much attention to themselves, and with the three of them they sure had her outnumbered.

Logan was the first of them all to move, taking his chance, he watched as a heavy set man in a trucker hat staggered past in front of him, bottle of beer in hand, slightly unsteady on his feet, seeing as he had already had one too many.

Logan lowered his shoulder, head tucked low, throwing all his force he took a few quick steps and without warning he rammed straight into him. The guy was picked up clean off his feet and sent flying. Somebody, one of the dancers screamed as suddenly everything happened at once.

The man landed heavily at the feet of one of the soldiers heading for Marie, making him lose his balance. The soldier in turned toppled backwards sprawling over the table of leather bound and heavily drunk bikers with bad moustaches and an even worse temper.

Not appreciating having their drinks spilled all over their laps they pinned the soldier to the table and began to pound the crap out of him.

The whole bar erupted into a mass brawl; with just about everyone throwing punches, waitresses jumping on guys and pounding their backs, bottles smashing over heads and tables being overturned, it was something straight out of a movie.

Logan headed towards where he had last seen Marie, but now in the mess of flying debris he looked around the bar and lost sight of her. He quickly stepped forward eyes scanning the room quickly…but nothing.

Distracted he only caught the sound of someone stepping behind him, he heard them snarl, could smell the beer on their breath, turning quickly a blur flashed before his eyes before something solid connected with the side of his head and the arm he had raised in defence.

More caught off guard than anything else Logan went down, bracing himself on his knees, he shook the ringing out of his ears and watched as the splinters of wooden chair fell around him.

* * *

Marie saw Logan go down, before she was shoved herself, pinned against the far back wall, she felt the pool cue pressed tight against her neck, and found herself staring into the wide eyes of one of the three soldiers that had followed her into the bar. 

She struggled to breathe, sharp rasping sounds caught in her throat, and she stared at him, pushing against his hands, she could feel her face redden, the blood pounding behind her eyes, as she pushed back, her fingers already beginning to slacken against his grip as the lack of oxygen burned her lungs.

He pressed harder, his face twisted into manic smile; she slipped down the fall, her back scraping against the bare brick, she sunk downwards, her arms flaying madly outwards, she reached for the table desperate for some leverage against this asshole who was choking the life out of her.

Every second spread out into an aching length of desperation, until at long last she felt her fingers curl around the neck of a beer bottle, tightening her grip quickly around the glass, she gathered every last ounce of strength left in her body to raise her arm quickly, swinging widely and quickly, she smashed the bottle over the soldiers head.

He groaned loudly, the pool cue falling from his hands as the glass embedded deep into his skull, the wound opening up and blood pouring down the side of his face. Marie doubled over and bracing herself against the wall, breathed in deep, large gulps of grateful air, she watched red eyed as the soldier clutched his head.

Recovering quickly she stepped towards him quickly, the Magnum in her hand, and all at once the muzzle pressed firmly against his forehead. He stared up at her, blood pouring into his eyes, down on his knees, eyes wide in fear as he met her cold gaze, she was a red blur on his vision and he was completely at her mercy.

She snarled down at him, the bulging blood vessels in her eyes giving her an almost devilish look, she thumbed off the safety of the gun, 'That's right ya fucker…' she whispered, 'ya look…ya look at me…'

He did as he was told, unable to help but stare at her; hand rock steady as she gently and slowly pulled the trigger…

'_They would beg for mercy…and you will offer none…' _

* * *

Logan pushed himself to his feet quickly, growling loudly and finding he was staring at a monster of man, heavily muscled and grizzly faced, he watched as the guy pulled a large serrated blade from behind his back. 

Logan stared at him sceptically, noting the cap he wore and the name he had monogrammed onto it, 'Big Jim.' The biggest and meanest looking guy in the bar, Big Jim had obviously gone looking for the next biggest and meanest looking guy he could find to fight….that had meant Logan.

He grinned madly at Logan as the cold steel gleamed in the lights, 'Come on boy…' he slurred drunkenly, 'let's dance…'

Logan could only stare, before he started to chuckle, low and deep in his chest finally letting out a deep throaty laugh. Big Jim waved his knife menacingly under Logan's eyes, 'You think this is funny boy…?'

Logan shook his head, 'Nope…I think this is funny…' As he spoke Logan extended his knuckles and slowly extended the adamantium claws, on one hand first, each blade slowly appearing, ending with a sharp swish. Three claws on one hand and three for the other, adamantium sharp blades, sharp and deadly.

He watched as Big Jim's face fell, and could almost swear he saw the big guy's serrated blade go limp. His face lost all colour, eyes wide and mouth falling open in shock, Big Jim stammered as he staggered backwards, 'Holy fuck…'

Logan grinned, 'we can dance…but here's the thin' I ain't into the two-step…so think you can keep up…?' He watched as Jim shook his head, 'fuck this…' he muttered before turning around and practically running out of the bar.

Turning back to the room he saw Marie, barely a few feet away from her now he saw her holding the gun to a man on his knees. His brow furrowed in anger, she wouldn't be that stupid, no way could be so reckless as to use a gun in the middle of a crowded room, she wasn't ready, she couldn't be willing to cross that line.

But she was, the steadiness of her hand, the cold look in her eye, she was ready and willing, to take a life, to step across the point of no return. He scowled, dammit Marie, looking around him wildly, he growled thinking quickly, and ending up doing the only thing he could.

He couldn't jump her, she was still far enough for him to be late, and she would have pulled that trigger long before he even got close. Propping his foot on the edge of the nearest table he, balancing carefully he kicked the table towards Marie and the soldier.

The furniture sailed across the floor screeching as it went and connecting solidly with the side of the man's chest knocking him to the floor and out of Marie's aim. She looked around startled only to see a smug looking Logan smiling at her.

She stared at him across the floor as the bar brawl carried on around them, she shook her head slowly, cursing him for his interference, he just carried right on smiling, before she turned around and he barely got a chance to shout out a warning before he saw her tackled, that third soldier had managed to get to her off guard and now they were rolling across the floor, clambering up the stage as he punched her across the face and she fell backwards.

* * *

Marie could feel the blood trickling down the side of her face, running her tongue across her lip the sharp cut across the bottom of her lip, the wound stinging. He was strong, this one, heavily built, and not just because of the Kevlar jacket, broad shoulders, thick neck, and this guy was a pro. 

She had barely scrambled to her knees when she heard him grunt, his leg drawn back he kicked her in the stomach, his heavy toed boot connecting solidly with the softness of her belly, sending her falling back to the floor, the air from her lungs forced out with a painful moan.

She shut her eyes tight at the searing pain, the sharp stab to her gut; rolling to her sides she clutched her stomach. He was on her in a minute, turning her onto her back, pinning her arm down and pinning her legs beneath his own.

He growled sneering down at her as she stared up at him, his army issue knife was at her throat, she could smell the beer on his breath, his weight threatening to crush her, she gritted her teeth and he smiled.

She snapped her head up quickly hoping to head butt him the same way she had done the woman in the bathroom, but he drew his face back and she missed, he increased the pressure on her chest, one arm pinned by her side, she struggled, trying to kick her legs, but he held tight.

'I always figured you'd fight dirty…' he smirked down at her.

Marie swore at him, before she nodded, 'Baby, ya jus' don't know how dirty ah can get soldier boy…' her voice purred, the Southern lilt prominent, her words dripping sweetly as she smiled up at him.

'Oh yeah…?' He brought his lips within inches of hers, 'sounds like a promise…'

She smiled, 'bet ya thought it was pretty good idea this morning to get suited up in that Kevlar jacket of yours huh?' His eyes narrowed in confusion, she smiled wider, her voice barely a soft whisper.

'But ah reckon ya should have gone for the whole body armour thing, 'cause guess what? That jacket of yours leaves some pretty important weak spots,' her eyes glinted, 'like that thick neck of yours, that space jus' where you jacket stops, your gut…but ah'm thinkin' even lower, like your balls…'

It was now that the soldier felt the sharp metal prodding at his crotch, he lifted himself up from Marie slightly, only to see her other hand free, the Magnum held tight in her enclosed fist and the muzzle tapping away at his dick.

He looked back up at her, his eyes wide in fear, a bead of sweat running from his brow, she laughed slightly, 'How 'bout it big guy…?'

He shook his head at her, nothin' to frighten a man like the idea that he might have his balls blown off. He sat up slightly, releasing the pressure on her legs and arm, she grinned at him, never moving her hand, the gun nestled firmly between his legs.

She scrambled backwards slowly and at the last minute she drew up her knee and connected solidly with his crotch. He went over, bent at the waist and writhing on the floor.

She returned the favour and kicked him sharply in the stomach, she kicked and kept on kicking until she was out of breath, leaving him a bloody pulpy mess, she stopped at last out of breath and brushing away at the blood on her face.

Marie turned around only to find herself facing an audience, some of the drinkers had stopped fighting long enough to watch as she had unleashed her fury on the soldier, she stared them down, 'What can ah say, he's a lousy tipper, and that goes for all of ya, these girls work damn hard dancin…,' she turned around and kicked him once more, a savage blow to the head, 'so how 'bout next time ya show your appreciation and leave a decent tip, ya bunch of tight…fisted….cheap…fuckers…!' Every word was emphasised with another kick.

Marie was ready to do and say more, but she found herself being pulled off the stage, a strong arm wrapped around her waist and Logan shouting in her ear. 'For fuck's sake Marie…we have to get outta here…'

* * *

_'Send in your skeletons  
Sing as their bones go marching in... again,  
The need you buried deep  
The secrets that you keep are ever ready  
Are you ready?'  
_

They moved about the room quickly, they were the backup, just in case things didn't go according to plan, two of them, standing either side of the door, ready for her. The sound of the radio filtered over to them.

_'I'm what's left, I'm what's right  
I'm the enemy  
I'm the hand that will take you down  
Bring you to your knees…'  
_

It was a cheap room, fading wallpaper, neon sign flashing in the window, the electrical clock blinking, its red LED display flashing, he peered at it closely, it was wrong, the time was wrong.

And then he noticed it, the back stripped away, its wires exposed; he followed the leads, down along the wall, past the power outlet and underneath the bedside table and saw what the wires had been attached to, an open gas canister hissing away.

_'What if I say I'm not like the others?  
What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?  
You're the pretender  
What if I say I will never surrender?'  
_

'Oh shit…!' Was all he managed to say, before the alarm clock beeped and everything went to hell.

* * *

He pushed her in front of him, out of the back exit and back underneath the metal stairs, he started up the steps, 'Let's get your things and get going…' 

She hung back, pressed against the bare wall, she dabbed the back of her hand at her busted lip, and she shook her head slowly, 'No…' She smiled up at him, 'Not when they've got the same idea.'

She was staring back at him, her eyes dark and her smile wide, 'Wait for it…' she whispered, holding up three fingers she seemed to be counting down. 'Three…two…one…'

As she closed her fist it happened, a huge explosion rocked the building, Logan was thrown clear off his feet, landing heavily, he watched as an enormous fireball blew out what had been Marie's room.

The door flying off its hinges he watched what followed, two charred still burning bodies coming to land barely a few feet away. He stared at them wide eyed, dragging himself to his feet, he heard screaming and the far distant rumble and howl of sirens.

They had to go, right now, tearing his eyes away from the corpses he looked around for Marie, only to realise he'd lost her again. 'Fuck it…' he shouted loudly, whipping his head around frantically, the inhabitants of the bar already filling up the street, putting off their fight, wanting to see what the hell was going on.

He pushed his way past the crowds, and heard the sound of tyres squealing, he looked down the street to see a black motorbike racing towards him, it didn't slow down and he stared as Marie braked hard coming to stop right at his feet, the bike resting at an angle, she smiled wickedly as she scooted backwards over the seat.

'Ah think ya should drive…'


	24. This Ain't A Love Scene

_A/N: Listen real carefully and you can hear the exact point at which Marie breaks Logan's heart_**...  
**

**Part 24- 'This Ain't A Love Scene…'  
**

She wrapped her legs close to the purring chassis of the machine; its vibrations sent shivers through her spine, the roar of its engines sounding over the beating of the thumping over her heart, and the cool night breeze passing through her hair sent her body humming in all directions.

The heat from the bike was nothing compared to the fire that coursing right through her, an intense burning that started form the back of her throat, a fiery path cutting through her chest and stomach, coming to a singular pointed blaze through her loins, pooling between her legs.

It was the adrenaline, the ecstasy and energy after a fight that had her closing her eyes and leaning back on the bike, mouth open in pleasure, arms spread wide at her side as the heavy ccs of the bike pushed through midnight traffic.

Every colour, every light, every street sign blistered with an amazing burst of colour pricking the retina's of her eyes, meshing together, alive and throbbing with every singular movement of her head or a toss of her hair.

She was on a trip of epic proportions, the 'e' she had taken, the drinks and the adrenaline from the fight had her senses pulsating in overdrive. And she loved every minute of it, leaning back on the bike almost flat out, she laughed, a clear, happy sound that rippled through the air.

Marie was in overload, her body, her nerves, down to the blood in her veins screaming at a hundred miles an hour, and she wanted, needed, ached to share this with somebody. No question about it, the intensity of it all had her horny as hell.

She purred in contentment as she shuffled closer to Logan, he was leaning forward, pushing the bikes torque for all it was worth, eyes narrowed against the wind that blistered through his hair, grizzled cheeks battered as he gritted his teeth.

It was the same for him; it was the same every time, after each and every fight, the adrenaline that came was like a drug. He could smell her, fuck even over the fumes of gas piling up from the bike, he could smell her. The musky scent, heavy with desire, laced with thrill, spicy and intoxicating, he could smell her need, the ache that burned through ever inch of her.

And he could feel her, the way she pressed up against him, the throbbing vibrations of her body, beating to a rhythm of its own, faster, louder, more intense even than the energy of the engine of the bike.

He could feel her hands spread across the muscles of his back, raking over the heavy denim of his jacket, until she slipped her hands underneath the material, under his shirt and onto the taut flesh of his back.

Her fingernails raked across his backbone, every square inch of skin responding to her touch, goose bumps prickling up and down his as she moved her arms around his waist, her hands resting against his stomach.

She pressed flush against him, her heels wrapping around his ankles, her breasts pushed up against his back, the fire that burned her passing effortlessly, seamlessly through their clothes, flowing from her and through him.

Intoxicating, heady scents of her, her touch, the gentle warm whisper of her breath passing over his neck, causing every hair to stand on end, he growled as she blew gentle kisses along the nape of his neck. Her hands working lower, teasingly tugging at the belt of his buckle, passing over the front of his jeans and the very obvious strain in his pants and coming to rest on his aching crotch.

His body was in overload, from his skin reacting to the slightest of her touches, from the blood pounding deafeningly loud in his ears, down to the very end of his nerves that were on fire. He leaned back further into her hands, into her arms, his head swimming from her touch, from her caress, the warmth and very essence of her.

It was a drug and he couldn't get enough, he wanted, needed, had to taste, to feel, to take in every part of her. 'Marie…' he whispered. He could feel her nod approvingly, her breath coming in quick short gasps as she raked her fingernails down the inside of his thighs and back up again. She gave his crotch a tight squeeze, pleased when he responded by thrusting his hips into her hand.

The wheels of the bike threatened to veer across the road, tyres burning furiously on the wet tarmac as Logan fought to get the machine under control again, shaking his head sharply, and cursing under his breath as he did so.

But she only laughed louder, and pressed up against him once more, when she began to grind her hips up against his back, and took to nibbling against his ear, Logan took the next exit off the busy road and pulled over at the nearest sign of a motel.

No point in getting them both killed now, he reasoned, as he paid for a room in cash and they made their way down to the cheap room, Marie following a few paces behind, neither of them saying a word.

* * *

They stepped into the room and Logan reached for the light switch, she was stood in the centre of the room at the foot of the bed. The nasty gash on her lip from where she had been punched was visible even under the light from outside on the boardwalk. 

'Leave the light…' she spoke softly but clearly and Logan stared at her. The luminous brown in her eyes was shining with an intensity he hadn't seen in the longest while. Her brown hair had fallen about her face, the white streaks falling messily; she met and held his gaze through the bangs of her hair.

In the intensity of those few moments he could have sworn they'd stepped back in time, back to when she was Marie, when she was both Marie and Rogue, the passion that burned behind those eyes, which shone with wounded pride when it seemed at last she'd accepted her fate and learned to live with the duality of her nature.

Eyes that had burned with intensity every time she forgot herself, and grown in confidence, adapting to that x-men uniform like a second skin, he'd remembered that look, and for those moments it seemed to bring her back to him. Back to that girl he'd remembered, laughing, shining eyes that betrayed a hundred different emotions, hope and laughter, grief and sadness and the ache for a release.

Chocolate brown eyes that he'd never seen shine brighter than when they'd promised her a cure. Marie, the same girl, whose light he had slowly seen fade, until that god awful mistake he'd made almost five months ago when he'd pushed her away. Marie, she was here now, in this room, the Marie that he'd tried to deny he'd been in love with for so long. That girl, it had to be her…it just had to be.

As long as he denied everything that had happened for the past few days, as long as he pushed that to the back of his mind, as long as he pretended, he could live with it. He could fool himself into thinking, she hadn't pulled a gun on him, she hadn't been ready to blow that soldier's head off, and she hadn't …she hadn't killed.

Logan closed his eyes and when he opened them again she was stood right before him, looking up at him, with an intensity, with those brown eyes he remembered from so long ago, remembered the girl from so long ago, Marie…my Marie.

But still he hesitated; she reached up and pressing one warm hand around the back of his neck, pulled him in for a fierce kiss. He could sense her body pressed up against his, the heat that flooded out of her, and the blood that trickled from the cut on her lip.

She pushed him back against the door, her hand wandering up into his hair, tugging fiercely at the locks, her other hand reaching for and pushing his jacket off his shoulders. He growled, a low rumbling in his chest that shook the both of them with its intensity, the animalistic urges in his nature, urging to press further, to probe with his tongue that gash across her lips, prodding the bloodied flesh, revelling in the slow sharp wince of pain that came from her as he sucked at the wound, drinking in the very essence of her, the sharp coppery, sweet tang of her blood, satiating his thirst and satisfying the Wolverine until the animal inside screamed for more.

Her hand curled up on his chest, her sharp fingernails digging into the bare flesh, cutting him open and healing over again. She arched her neck, pressing her lips further against his welcoming mouth, his teeth coated with her blood; she broke away from his grasp, before peeling away the shirt that she wore.

He ran his tongue against his teeth, still tasting her, and tore at the buttons of his shirt leaving the material to fall at the door. She walked backwards and he followed her further into the room, he stepped forwards quickly, sweeping an arm about her waist he hauled her upwards until she was held over his midsection.

He held her there awhile, kissing the top of her breasts over her bra, licking at the material, flicking his tongue over her nipples, soaking the black bra through. She stared at him through the bangs of her hair, pressing her forehead against his; she cupped his face with her hands, running her palms over the stubble of his cheeks.

Logan turned quickly, his knees hitting the end of the bed, he pushed her down onto the bed, lowering himself on top of her, he stared at her intently before he kissed her again. She closed her eyes tight, as his hands roamed over her skin, down her front cupping one breast gently before moving slowly over her stomach, down her thighs and to the hem of her skirt.

He pushed the material upwards, his fingers probing, seeking the very core of her; she jutted upwards, her whole body arching into his fingers as he ran his hand over the front of her panties. He pushed her back down, steadying her with a hand placed firmly around her thigh, she groaned and wriggled uncomfortably.

Reaching behind her reluctantly, she fished out the handgun from behind her back and stretching her arm out across the bed dropped the Magnum to the floor. He stared at her, her mouth twisted into a knowing smile and her eyes, her eyes shut tight.

He gritted his teeth, look at me dammit Marie, look at me…let me know, I haven't got this wrong, how could I? Is it you, it has to be, in my arms, responding to my fingers, the heat, the energy pounding through your veins, the scent that hits me like a sledgehammer, pure desire and longing, it's you…it has to be you…

Logan reached up, her eyes were screwed tight even as she reached for his belt and the zipper on his jeans, but he shook his head and stilled her hands, pinning her arms down, he reached up and took hold of her face firmly in one hand. With harsh force he gripped his fingers digging into the softness of her cheeks, bruising her flesh.

'Look at me Marie…for fuck's sake open your eyes…' She hesitated before her eyes snapped open, staring at him through hooded lids, eyes that shone with frightening intensity, more than the girl he had used to know, something, else, someone else, not just her, a thousand others.

And all at once he could see it, in his mind's eye, Marie lying to him, using him. Marie wielding that gun, Marie savagely kicking a soldier, Marie rigging up sort of bomb…the smell of charred skin as he had watched the bodies land at his feet, still smouldering, carnage and cindered flesh, and it was her, she pulled the trigger, Marie…killer.

But she didn't understand and reaching for him still he pinned her back down, pushing her head back down into the mattress, 'Fuck…!' He swore loudly, pulling away from her. But she smiled wickedly, 'Ah thought that was the general idea…' her voice husky and low made him turn on her.

'You lied to me…' he whispered, his hurt gaze meeting her cold one as he stood up, leaving her to prop herself up on her elbows. He stared at her, and he could see she knew exactly what he was talking about.

That conversation in the car, when Marie had fought to push them back, when they'd both fought to bring her back, hold on…hold on to what you are.

'You told me they were gone…you told me she was gone, you lied to me…' Logan passed a tired hand through his hair. She swung her legs over the end of the bed, first picking up the gun, tucking it into her skirt, and then pulling on her shirt.

'What makes ya think ah lied…' her voice with its tell-tale teasing set him further on the edge.

He hurried up to her, pushing her back against the wall, his hand around her throat he spat down at her, 'How 'bout the fact that you're runnin' around like GI fuckin' Jane…'

She scowled, her mouth twisted into a bitter smile, as she pushed him back.

'Fuck ya Logan…what makes ya think this has anythin' to do with them…' she challenged him.

'Marie…' his voice boomed, 'you killed two men tonight…that couldn't have been you, whatever else the fuck has happened these past months, you…you're not a killer, a bitch yeah …a cold hearted bitch sometimes, but you're not a killer, or at least you weren't.'

She chuckled low, 'Yeah…? And how the fuck would ya know, things change, ah grew up, ya have no idea what's goin on with me, ya never bothered before, so what's it matter to ya now?'

'You're not a killer Marie…' he repeated, his voice fading with every word, unable even to convince him self anymore.

'Ya mean ah'm not you…?' Her words cut through and he looked up at her quickly, his eyes menacing, his gaze feral, she was right of course, he was a killer, always had been.

His knuckles flexed, 'Jus' give me a straight answer Marie…, they're not gone are they, she's still up there isn't she?' He choked on the words; the answer he knew was coming would tear him apart.

She didn't speak for the longest while, leaning back against the door she smiled quietly, shuffling her feet staring at the floor through the bangs of her hair. 'No…they're not gone. But ya know what, it don't matter anymore, ah'm done fightin' them, they saved ma life more than once, tellin' them to piss off now would jus' seem bloody ungrateful don't ya think…?'

She laughed at her own attempt at humour. He shook his head at her, 'how long?'

'Ya mean how long since they've been back…?' she asked him, her hand hovering behind her back, still shuffling her feet, looking like the little school girl caught in a lie. If only it was that simple. 'Sugah…they never really left…'

He sat down heavily on the bed, it had been a lie, damned fucked up sort of lie, all of it, down to the moments in this room when he thought he had her in his arms, it meant nothing, he had meant nothing, as far as she was concerned he could have been just another john, another mark for her to work over, because it was not her, not Marie, not the girl he remembered, not the one he ached over.

She sighed quietly, a soft whisper that carried over the quiet air, 'It ain't too bad, not this time, ah'm in control, ah control them not the other way round…'

He didn't give her a chance to finish before he pounced angrily, 'If you really believe that…' he stood in front of her glaring tapping the side of his head, 'then you're even further gone than I thought!'

Marie was defiant, 'But ya know what, ya know the best thing 'bout having 'em up there?' She paused, making sure her next words would sink in, 'They pushed ya out Logan, all those years of carrying ya up here,' she pressed her fingers to the side of her head, 'and they finally pushed ya out. No more room for ya up there, ah don't see ya…ah don't feel ya…ah don't taste ya, not anymore.'

His eyes widened at her every word, 'No more wondering, hoping, thinkin' 'bout what Logan would say, or what he would do, no more of your fucked up memories twisting away up here, hurtin'…hurtin' all the time.'

She smiled at him, and he realised she had the Magnum in her hands, clicking the safety on and off, rubbing the muzzle of her gun against the back of her head, 'They killed the part of ya inside me Logan...'

She might as well have shot him a hundred times over, put the gun smack bang in the middle of my head baby and just pull the trigger; she chuckled coldly over his expression, and spoke softly up at him, 'still think ah'm too far gone sugah?'

He gritted his teeth, 'You were wrong Marie…' his voice cutting and broken because of her words struggled to be heard. She tilted her head and regarded him curiously, 'You were wrong, in the car when you said I chose a side and regretted it since…'

He stood up, his fists clenched by his sides, struggling to contain everything he felt, anger, disappointment and this burning ache, heavier than his adamantium could ever have been, heavier than all the fights he'd ever been through, burning through all the horrors he'd seen inflicted on himself and those he'd visited on others.

He walked carefully over to the window, Marie was stood in the far side corner of the room, her face cast in shadow, arms crossed defiantly over her chest, 'I didn't choose a side Marie…all those years ago, it was never 'bout sides…I chose you.'

He couldn't read her expression, but suddenly she had her gun drawn and aimed, 'Logan…' she spoke cautiously, the syllables of his name uttered carefully, 'Logan, get the fuck down…'

His brow creased in frustration and confusion, she was crossing over to him quickly, until at the last few steps she dived on him pushing back against the wall. At the same time the window shattered, the glass raining inwards and he saw Marie lifted clean away from him and punched against the far wall.

Her head snapping back with a painful thud, Logan watched as her mouth fell open in surprise and shock before she slowly slid down to the floor, a trail of blood smeared down the wall in her wake.

He saw the red pinpoint dot hovering where she had stood, hovering across the patterns on the wall, and all at once realised what was happening.

Sniper…


	25. Caught Up In Her Sights

**Part 25- 'Caught Up In Her Sights…'  
**

Logan hit the floor, the broken glass from the window cutting into his arms, he felt the flesh open up and close over again, he heard the crack in the air as the sniper fired another round into the room. The bullet hit the back wall with deadly impact, pieces of plaster shaking loose and falling to the floor.

He growled loudly, his eyes roving in the darkness until he caught sight of Marie from the space underneath the bed, he saw her legs lying at awkward angles, she wasn't moving and he hissed in a sharp breath.

His progress was painfully slow, forced to move across the dirty cheap carpet dragging himself along on his elbows and knees, keeping his head down, keeping out of the sight of the sniper. Every second was a painful thud on his chest, every second pulled into eternity, stretched out until he almost screamed in frustration, the deadly silence resounding as loud as a jackhammer pounding away at his skull.

He reached her at last, and saw her lying on her back surrounded in a pool of blood, with trembling fingers, unsure and afraid he passed his hands over her arms, until he came to the part her skin fell away under his fingers, the top of her right arm a pulpy mess of shattered bone and open wound.

The wound was singed, the cordite from the bullet having burnt her flesh, she was bleeding heavily, but as far as he could tell the bullet had passed cleanly through, a clear exit wound puncturing the back of her arm through the shirt. He stripped away the sleeve, pulling the material as carefully as he could, still lying flat on his stomach, careful, being ever careful not to expose himself or Marie.

He reached across her to the bed sheets and pulled the material shredding the cotton with an easy swipe of his claws, tearing it into strips he hoped it was clean enough, the last thing she needed now was to die because of septic blood poisoning. Taking her arm carefully he wrapped the makeshift bandages around the wound, tying the dressing off tightly.

Marie stirred at last, a loud groan escaping her as she opened her eyes slowly, her other hand flying to the arm Logan had just bandaged, she drew in a sharp painful breath as her hand probed the wound, she tried to pull herself upright, dragging her legs so she could sit up.

Logan heard the sharp crack in the air, and this time it was his turn to pull her back down to the floor, covering her body with his own as another bullet hit the wall above them and yet more cheap wall plaster rained down his back.

He kept her pinned to the floor, his face mere inches from hers as he shook his head slowly, 'Don't move.' She nodded before her eyes drifted shut again and she murmured, 'Ah like the idea sugah, but fact is one of is gonna have to take that fucker out if we're gonna get outta here. Cause ah ain't reckonin' on growin' old and grey in this shit-hole…'

He stared down at her, the implication of her words burning into him; she prised open her eyes to smile gently up at him, 'ah'd volunteer but seein' as ah'm temporary out of commission,' she tried to lift her arm, the strain from the effort causing her to breathe harder.

Logan nodded his head slowly, she sighed, he couldn't read her features, relief, had she always known she'd talk him round, _you're a killer Logan, always were…always will be…' ._ He raised himself away from her slowly, keeping low turning around back to the doorway.

Ready to move he felt her hand grip his arm, she pulled him back, in this tight spot wedged between the wall and the bed, the only position that was safe was to lie literally on top of her.

She reached up and gripped the back of his head. 'Listen…' she whispered, her voice harsh and cut with the promise of pain, 'snipers take up positions almost two hundred yards away, high, from the angle this fuckers shooting ah reckon they're on that roof opposite this motel.'

She gritted her teeth, 'They're patient Logan, hell they'll wait 'til hell freezes over, if they have to, it's what makes 'em so fuckin' good.' Logan nodded; he knew all this but made a point of listening to her all the same.

'Night vision goggles…' her voice fell, 'ya gotta blind 'em, hit the lights, it'll buy ya a few seconds. Ah hope you're a fast worker Logan, 'cause that's all you're gonna get 'fore she starts aimin' to hit ya right between the eyes.'

He raised an eyebrow, '_She_…?'he repeated.

Marie nodded, 'some of the best snipers in the world are women, patience of a saint and all that shit.' She smiled and her eyes flashed brightly in the dark.

He scoffed, 'guess it's a whole new take on that girl power thing right…?'

* * *

She stared down the sight of her scope, the cross hairs illuminated in the green light of the night vision spectrum, adjusting the sight slowly she stared down the rim of the rifle. A slow smile playing on her lips, she knew where they were, that little bitch and that asshole Logan, she had them pinned, rats in a cage.

She'd shot her, she'd seen her go flying, hit that back wall, a broken doll, just a matter of picking them off now, and she had all night.

Lowering the cap on her head, brushing the rain from the end of her nose as it dripped off the rim of her hat, she tightened her hold on the trigger, the barrel of the gun jammed into her shoulder, lying flat out of the roof, the end of the rifle resting on the edge of the roof.

Pressing her eye to the scope she stared, and in a flash of light that saw her pull away from the gun with large gasp, as the green flared into a blinding white and she was temporarily blinded, 'Shit…!'

Shaking her head quickly, she looked down into the motel room again the door to the room had been kicked open and that's when she saw him racing across the car lot, head down already halfway across.

She had to put him down, now…now, before he disappeared into the alley behind the cheap five and dime building she was hiding on, put him down…now!

* * *

Logan moved faster than even he thought he could, heading straight for the side of the building two hundred yards directly in front of him, he heard the sharp crack of a bullet racing through the air, knowing even if she hit him, it wouldn't stop him.

You'd better be aimin' right between my eyes sweetheart, 'cause ain't no way you're goin' be slowing me down otherwise.

The bullet hit the brick wall above him, a loud audible thud making his feet move faster, another shout, closer this time, bearing down on him, training her sights on him, split seconds for her to reload, to fire again, his heart was pounding in his chest, louder and louder, legs and arms pumping faster and faster, closer now, almost there.

Sweat pouring into his eyes; mingling with the rain that blinded him, he saw the darkened alleyway at the side of the five and dime, taking a huge desperate gulp of breath he dived into the darkness, his shoulder colliding into the trash cans and rubbish bags, he lay for a few seconds, blood thumping in his ears at a hundred miles an hour, fighting to keep the adrenaline coursing through his body as another round from her rifle embedded into the wall opposite.

Pulling himself to his feet, and out of her sight now he looked around, seeing the fire escape hanging a few feet above his head he jumped up and pulled the ladder down, climbing quickly up the metal stairwell, he moved as silently as he could.

He stepped out onto the roof, and saw her crouched on the edge of the roof, she must have known he was there, she'd seen him race across the car lot, seen him dive into that space behind the building, but she didn't move, not even when he stood only a few inches behind her.

'You think it's a good idea to leave your little girlfriend all alone in there?' She spoke smilingly, her words clear and unafraid.

Logan crouched down behind her, 'Why not, it ain't as if the rest of your team survived.'

She shrugged and chuckled low, 'nice trick with the light, she tell you to do that?' He didn't answer, 'figures, odds always were stacked in her favour…'

'Who are you…?' Logan asked, close enough so he could have been whispering in her ear, 'what d'ya want from Marie?'

'Come on Logan, or should I say Wolverine,' she smiled and turned to face him, 'what do they always want? But if you think Weapon X was bad, what they're doing to her will make that project look like little boys playing with their chemistry sets…'

He staggered as she mention that name, 'weapon X' something so familiar, so intrinsic to the base animalistic nature inside him that he howled in recognition at that name. A thousand images flooded his mind, flashes of light in the darkened corners, pain and blood, and snow, blinding white snow as he runs and runs, savage and feral.

Blindingly in his rage he grabbed her about the neck, the gun falling from her hands and hurtling to the floor, his hands pressing down on her throat he choked her, shaking her like a rag doll, fire and fury burning through him, an ancient rage out of control and wild, aware only of his hate.

She hadn't been afraid of him, but she was now and as he stared down at the fading light in her eyes, he saw himself, and the monster that he appeared, '_you're a killer Logan, always were…always will be…' . _Growling loudly he slowly released his grip around her throat and let her drop to the floor, she choked in a grateful shudder of breath.

'You let them know,' he spat down at her, 'you let them know, I ain't giving up on her, what you did to me you won't get the chance to break her the same way, I'll see us all to hell before that happens.'

He strode purposefully back across the roof, hearing her cough and choke, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes narrowed.

* * *

The rain beat down as he stepped back inside the room; Marie was sat up, her back pressed against the bed, low enough to avoid a sniper's bullet.

He kneeled down in front of her, she was pale and he could see the blood seeping through the bandage, she smiled as she looked up at him, staring at him a while before she spoke. Her mouth twisted into a cold smile.

'Ya couldn't do it, could ya…? Ya didn't kill her did ya…?' she asked.

He ignored her words as he tentatively slid one arm around her waist, with his other arm he gathered up her legs and hauling her upwards carried her out of the room and towards the bike. She rested her head on his shoulders, her injured arm hanging uselessly by her side.

'That was a mistake Logan…' she whispered gently as he carried her carefully across the car lot, avoiding the stares of the storekeeper across the street.

Her head lolled forward and he heard her sigh, her soft body yielding to his strong arms, his voice, grated as he spoke, 'I'm tired Marie…' He thought she had drifted into a deep sleep. But she moved slightly and he felt her good arm shift slightly to hold on tighter to him.

'Ah know, so am ah…'He smiled down at her as her soft words drifted up to him, he carefully reassured her as he placed her on the front of the bike, settling in behind her he revved up the bike.

Aware now of the hollow aching in his chest, for the first time in his life more afraid than he had ever known, a dull ache settling into every one of his bones, he stared down at Marie as he cradled her form in his. He wondered if it really was possible to love and hate someone in the same breath, 'cause over the past few months Marie had given him reason to do both.

And realising as he made that final push back to New York and the Academy, that it didn't matter, whatever he did or didn't feel for her anymore, it would have to come second, right now it seemed both their collective pasts were gonna come crashing in head first, and the fallout promised to be somethin' else.

Weapon X and everything God-awful that he remembered came along with it, hate and rage, and tremendous pain…all that but something even worse for Marie?


	26. The Long Walk

A/N: Yep, been away for a while, sorry 'bout that, if anyone is still following the story Marie is back at the Academy and Bishop/Mystique has caught up with Arrington...let the games begin...

**Part 26- 'The Long Walk…' **

The sun always came out after the rain, Arrington blinked against the brightness of the morning sun, its warm rays hitting the damp patches of pavement, the air punctuated with the smell of smoke and cinder.

He stood across the street from the Three Stars bar, staring up at the gaping hole in the second floor landing where room thirteen had once been. Whiffs of smoke rose from the ruins; the smell of burned flesh, and charred walls clinging to the air was punctuated by the slow sound of dripping water, catching the sunlight, gleaming slightly running down the railings of the metal stairwell before hitting the ground.

The area had been cordoned off as the local police monitored the scene and fire fighters made sure the last of the fire had been damped down. They clumped down the stairs, covered in soot.

Less than an hour ago he had been stood in the middle of a hotel room, plaster dust still clinging to the furniture, shards of glass littering the carpet, deep bullet holes in the wall. He had stood stock still as the clean up had gone on around him, his gaze fixed by the opposite wall, and the blood smeared down the length of the wallpaper, finally ending in a large stain on the dirty carpet.

Arrington had walked slowly up to the wall, his fingers tracing over the wall, a spent bullet casing still trapped in the plasterboards, buried deep, framed by a deep red, Marie's blood.

Crouching down to the floor, he passed his hand over the stain, his fingers splayed wide; he closed his eyes and thought he could almost taste the copper tang of her on his lips.

Now standing outside the bar he smiled to himself, and watched as his second in command, Lieutenant Bishop strode towards him. His lips curved into a thin smile he stared as the young lieutenant stood over the bodies.

Arrington had half expected Bishop to bolt for the nearest bathroom and spew his guts up as soon as he took in the smell of burnt flesh and death clinging pervasively to the still air, but Bishop seemed completely unmoved. The lieutenant even crouched down to take in a closer look, lifting the sheets slightly, staring at the charred flesh and what remained of a human face for a good few minutes.

Replacing the sheet and covering the body once more Bishop remained crouched until at last his head shifted slightly and his gaze met the general's. Arrington stared back, and wondered at the momentary flash of feeling that fleeted across the young lieutenant's face, what was it…? Recrimination…anger…hate?

Pushing himself to his feet slowly, Bishop strode purposefully across the road and the sidewalk where Arrington was stood. Bishop nodded his salute, all the formality they were allowed here out in the open and general public, by all extents this still was an undercover black-ops.

'Facts and figures…Bishop?' Arrington's stared back up at the defunct room, the blackened bricks holding his focus even as he asked for a report from his SIC. Bishop stood slightly to his left, his voice hushed into a deliberate audible whisper, words loud enough only for the General to hear.

Five causalities sir, everything from concussion, a broken nose and fractured ribs, and…' Bishop faltered, but only slightly, 'two fatalities.'

Arrington nodded, 'you've assessed the situation in the motel, what'd ya reckon her chances are?'

Bishop spoke low, his eyes boring intently into Arrington's neck, yes he'd assessed the situation in the motel room, even spoken to the sniper, whatever words he could understand coming out of her mouth, she managing nothing more than a hoarse whisper with her bruised larynx.

He'd stood in the doorway, taken in the shattered window, the bullet holes that had ripped through the walls, and the blood. He'd seen the purely savage pleasure the general had taken in running his hands around that framed mess of red on the wall. The manic calm as he had shut his eyes seemingly savouring the taste of Marie.

And Bishop had read the reports, poured over them, the long journey down from Canada he had assessed every detail, gone over every revolutionary procedure, every bruise, every scratch, every needle mark they'd ever made in that girl. And the poisons, the drugs they'd pushed into her, he knew everything.

The changes her body was going through, the slow poisoning of her system, the girl that was being killed, and the…the monster that we would be reborn in her place. The cages of mutants held in that facility. Yes she had read it all, with the blood pounding away in her ears, cursing now and again, hating their deviousness, their lies, humans…lying, murderous, bastard humans like this General Arrington.

He had read the reports as a human, as Bishop, but he had felt their impact as a mutant, as Mystique.

Now shifting his stance slightly so as he stood behind Arrington, Bishop recited his assessment of the situation, 'As you know sir the cycle was interrupted and though we may be behind schedule, the good doctors inform that we're still moving along at a satisfactory pace. And given the testimony of her 'victims', we should assume the combat conditioning is remarkably effective, as we both know sir, nothing tells the truth like a seasoned soldier that's had his ass handed to him.'

Bishop thought he saw Arrington's head tilt a little and he knew the bastard was smirking.

'Cell regeneration should be nearing sixty-percent, DNA binding set to begin, white cell count close to double.' Bishop concluded, 'I'd say her chances are pretty damn good…sir.'

Arrington remained silent, Bishop stared into his back, and his eyes flashing yellow for the briefest of seconds as Mystique contemplated how easy it would be to end it for this bastard right now. She had to admit, he was one evil fuck, more so than she had encountered before, smarter and more sadistic, a cold smile settled on her lips, now if only he had been batting for the other side. If Arrington had been a mutant, she might actually have gotten to like the sick, sadistic bastard. As it was, she stared at the back of his neck, wondering just how easily she could put the barrel of her concealed 9mm at the back of his head and simply blow him away.

Arrington turned around quickly and faced him, Bishop held his breath, the general's stature towering over him, before the older man smiled and spoke quickly, 'There's something different 'bout you Bishop…'

Bishop met his gaze unflinching, though his heart beat louder and louder…and louder as he waited for Arrington to continue. The momentary panic eased quickly when Mystique realised Arrington knew nothing, and saw her as she appeared, as Bishop.

Arrington's lips pursed into a tight smile, 'What happened with that cousin of yours?'

The lieutenant paused, if this was a test it was a pretty weak one, Arrington wouldn't catch him out, not like this. His jaw tightened as he stared back at the General, 'Dead, sir…I stayed on for the funeral.'

Arrington kept staring until he nodded at last, and turned to walk away, he stopped a few feet away, and called back over his shoulder, 'You left so quickly, without even sayin' goodbye, I have to say you went and hurt my feelings Bishop.'

Bishop caught the sarcastic, light tone in the general's voice and realised the reason for his joking mood, the bastard was unbelievably, almost, sorta happy. He shook his head; trust the sick fuck to find something to laugh about in all this, around the smoke still rising from the bodies this bastard would find something worth celebrating.

'As I said Bishop, there's something different 'bout you…but that ain't necessarily a bad thing, maybe it seems like you're finally coming round to my way of thinking.'

His hands thrust deep into coat pockets and his face half cast in shadow, he spoke softly, 'The way you handled yourself back there, not bad, looks like that trip did you some good. What happened, you go away and grow a pair…?'

Mystique barely stopped himself from smirking as the General gestured for him to follow, 'Yeah, something like that …'

* * *

The huge iron gate swung open for them automatically as the bike purred quietly into gear and the gravel driveway shifted underneath the tyres as Logan guided the machine back home. 

Home…back at the academy, Marie was sat behind him now, her one good arm wrapped tightly around his waist. The other held in a makeshift sling, and he felt her entire body stiffen behind him, the fingers dig into his chest, the tension racking up inside her like a coiled spring.

And it was because of this place, Xavier's Academy for the gifted, here, the place where it had all fallen apart for, where rejection, guilt and shame hung about her, weighing heavy, weighing her down, only six months since she'd left, no sort of time at all really, but for her it seemed like a lifetime.

Logan heard her draw in a sharp hiss of breath as he parked the bike in front of the steps, heard the soft rustle of clothes as she slowly slid off the bike. And saw the hard line in her jaw, the set features, the sharp glint in her eyes and her fist balled by her side.

Her breathing became erratic, he heard her heart beat faster and he felt the anger rising in her.

She wasn't happy 'bout being here, that was for damn sure. But right now there was no choice, she had made the deal with him, just 'til Doc McCoy looks ya over' that was what he had promised, 'after that your choice…'

Your choice, walk away or stick around, either way, Logan knew, either way I'm left with nothing.

He saw her take a deep breath, square her shoulders and take that first step, up the stone steps, she stopped halfway, and Logan only a few yards behind her wondered if she was thinking of the same thing, that night, that same night he had rejected her, the night she had walked away, promising him it was forever.

So many ghosts, so many memories hanging about this damn place, every inch of this building, of this life six moths ago screamed pain to the both of them, but here they were again, circumstances and a fucked up sense of fate kicking them halfway across the country and still ending up back at this place.

Karma, yep she was one helluva bitch, the sort that screwed ya over and had a good laugh 'bout it the next morning.

The heavy oak doors loomed in front of them, Logan looked back, down the steps to the bike and down the driveway, the distance seemed to stretch on forever into the dark night, fuck, he thought, never realised how damn long this walk is.

* * *

He had called ahead, let Storm know they were coming, still it felt strange the four of them stood in the large entrance hall, not knowing for a few minutes what to say or do, none of them having a clue. 

Hank and Storm stood to one side, Logan simply lit up a cigar, whilst Marie ran her good hand through her dirty ruffled hair. They couldn't stop staring at her, the good Doc and Storm, it seemed Marie really had changed that much. And Marie, she went to her happy place, that place where she got pissed off at jus' 'bout everyone else, self-defence, Logan recognised it almost instantly, she may have been more grown up that most of them knew, but in some ways she was still only nineteen. And yep, she still knew how to sulk like a teenager. He smiled quietly to himself and she threw him the dirtiest look she had.

Storm recovered almost instantly, moving in to carefully embrace her, Marie put out her arm and stopped her, 'sorry Storm, ah ain't so much about the touchy-feely stuff anymore.'

Storm simply nodded and stepped back, and Logan felt bad for her, Ororo knew the mistakes she had made when it came to Marie, she'd owned up to them more than once. And yeah Marie had a right to be pissed, but least the woman was making an effort.

He growled low, 'Yeah…' he quipped, fixing Marie with a disapproving stare 'not unless you got the right sort of change.'

Marie scoffed a quick glance in his direction and she simply shrugged her good shoulder. 'Nice…' she replied.

Hank and Storm could only stare back and forth at both Logan and Marie; the tension between them was palpable, raw and thick it hung heavy in the air. It seemed everything revolving them was holding its breath waiting for everything to implode.

Marie moved towards the staircase, they had gained an audience, a few students hung around the landing watching the four of them, she looked quietly and saw Bobby, Kitty hanging onto his arm, her gaze locked onto his and she smiled sweetly. Leaning forward, the top of her bra showing, breasts pushed together, she blew him a kiss.

Both Bobby and Kitty's eyes widened and Marie couldn't help but laugh as Kitty dragged him away.

It was Hank's turn to offer something to the conversation, his deep, cultured tones purred, smart and sophisticated, 'Marie what happened to your arm?' She didn't answer. 'I'd like to take a look at that if I could,' Hank continued, 'do something a little better than that sling you're wearing.'

Marie simply stared at him, tilting her head to one side it seemed she'd almost forgotten about the bullet hole that had ripped through her less than twenty-four hours ago. Truth was she almost had, it was remarkable but she could feel the wound healing, the blood loss had abated a long while ago.

She could already feel the fibres of tissue knotting together, the muscles regenerating themselves and the bone healing. And it wasn't just the gunshot wound, other bruises; other cuts were healing just as fast, the scratches on her legs had all but faded.

Logan's handiwork, the deep cut above her eye was fading as well, although still purple and slightly mottled, it was nowhere near as bad as it had been.

She had kept the arm in the sling more for Logan's benefit than her own, thing was she knew this had something to do with the _others_, the ones bouncing around her head even now, telling her being back here wasn't the best of ideas.

'Ya know how it is Hank…' she spoke at last, 'ya kick some military ass, blow up a hotel room, and end up getting shot…' Her nonchalant tone surprised him the sing-song tinge to her voice almost childlike.

'Could I have a look at it, in the infirmary perhaps…?' Doc McCoy insistence inferred he was more worried about Marie getting shot, than Marie was herself.

She shrugged, 'Sure why not, knock yourself the hell out, but right now…ah really need a fuckin' shower.' She turned back to Ororo, 'my room still available?' Marie stared as the older woman seemed to falter, confused about everything, nothing more so than this seeming nineteen year old, almost unrecognisable now, in her dirty torn shirt and scuffed jeans, the hair cut short, and the eyes darker, pools of dark chocolate brown marking her as being so much older than Ororo remembered. Had it really been only six months since Marie had left?

Storm found her voice at last, speaking quietly, apologetically almost, 'The thing is…Marie…we had a large influx of students after you left, we were running out of rooms and I'm sorry I tried to keep…'

Marie cut her off, her tone bitter, 'Well what d'ya know, guess some things really don't change at all huh? This place is just as welcoming as it always was…thanks Storm,' she leaned against the banister, before smiling again.

'His room still open…?' she gestured towards Logan.

All eyes suddenly turned towards Logan, chomping down on his cigar and scratching his stubble, he looked up, first at the wide eyed shock of Ororo and then at the quiet smile Marie wore. He shrugged, sharing a room with Marie? Hell they'd shared a lot more these past few days.

'Well yes…'Storm nodded, 'but you can't…' she tried vainly to string some sort of sentence together.

Marie laughed slightly, 'Watch me…ah'll take the bed, he gets the floor.' She stomped up the stairs, her voice laced with anger and bitterness 'whoever said it was gonna be good to be back…?'


	27. Welcome To The Jungle

_A/N: Sorry for the long overdue updates but at least my schedule is somewhat clearer now, so updates should become a regular thing again...hopefully :) If you've ever read 'Elektra Assassin' especially issue 7, you'll know where Logan's frustrations are coming from in the 'bath scene', of this chapter, It was mostly inspired by that issue, LOL :D_

* * *

**Part 27- 'Welcome To the Jungle…' **

_'Welcome to the jungle  
we got fun 'n' games…' _

It was strange but even as Mystique walked down the clean, metallic corridor it seemed the lyrics to that particular song were embedded on her mind, she couldn't help but hum along. It seemed oddly appropriate for what she thought she would find behind the steel doors, cages, an endless row upon rows of cages, each containing a different mutant, caged and tied like an animal.

Her blood boiled at the thought, but she had to be careful, there were so many cameras, so many people watching her every move, here in the heart of this black-op, buried deep under a cavern, she was alone here, and the only thing that ensured her survival was keeping up the front. Mastering Bishop's mannerisms, his habits, the things he was likely to say and then mimicking them perfectly, it was the only thing keeping her from ending up in a cage like those other poor bastards.

And she couldn't afford to risk being caught, not yet, there was too much at stake, like revenge. Mystique stared at her reflection in the steel vaulted door, perfect, it was perfect, she was every inch the exact copy of Bishop.

She pressed her thumb to the small metallic plate just off centre of the doors, 'fingerprint verified…' the computer droned and Mystique knew what to expect next, a small camera melted out of the wall and beeped twice. 'Iris recognition needed to confirm identity…' demanded the voice.

She smiled and pressed her right eye to the camera, a retinal scan processing the unique image of her eye. 'Identity confirmed…welcome Lieutenant Bishop.' Mystique smiled as the steel doors parted and she stepped inside. Her gaze immediately shifted, and her stare sought the one mutant she had every intention of seeking out, the reason she had taken so much trouble, the one she'd promised the late Bishop she'd crawled out of hell for.

_'Welcome to the jungle  
Watch it bring you to your knees, knees  
I wanna watch you bleed…' _

* * *

He could hear the water gently splashing, could imagine tiny clear droplets running down milky white skin, damp skin, he was perfectly in tune with the sounds coming from the en suite of his room only a few feet away. 

Logan screwed his eyes shut at the gentle sighs and the soft moans she made, the steam escaping from the slightly open door and wrapping around him had him cursing under his breath. Dammit Marie, how the hell was it possible for someone to enjoy a bath this damn much?

She'd been in there for the past couple hours, talked 'bout a shower and opted for a long hot bath instead. And had been slowly driving him crazy ever since, with every shift and every splash of the water had him burying his head in the pillow of the sleeping bag he'd thrown on the floor.

Sharing a room with Marie? Sure he'd thought, not a problem, what the hell, sure it was only the girl he'd fantasised about, the one over the past few weeks, who'd shown him she could be more of a cold hearted bitch than he could have ever imagined.

Share a room with Marie? Yep sure not a problem, he'd assured Storm.

Only there was a problem, and it had everything to do with those sounds she kept making, those slow satisfied mewling, the sound of water rippling down the soft flesh of her back, and hitting the side of the bath, dripping down to the tiled floor with a soft tap, drip after slow agonising drip.

The steam from water set to a temperature just above heated, filling the bathroom, drifting away and over to him, filling his head with every scent imaginable, fresh and seductive, soft and promising, and the faintest hint of…lavender?

Lavender…where the hell had she gotten lavender from? The last he remembered of his bathroom, there was no way in hell he kept lavender in there. Growling loudly to himself, he jumped to his feet, and began tugging at his hair, to focus on something, anything other than a naked Marie on the other side of that door.

Pacing back and forth, he shook his head, she knew, course she knew exactly what she was doing, when she moved like that, the barely audible sighs, softest sounds carried only to his ears, making the blood in his veins pound away at a hundred miles an hour, burning through him, burning the pictures of her long legs, the pink and puckered flesh and those plump lips of hers, burning and marking into his very mind.

His feet carried themselves of their own accord over to the bathroom, bracing his aching head against the door frame, he gulped loudly, the breath in his very bones shaking out and escaping him in one long sigh. Looking up he caught sight of her in the mirror positioned at an angle over the sink.

He saw her leaning back in the tub, soapy water brushing up and lapping above her breasts, one knee raised slightly, hair wet and matted against her forehead, her injured arm resting on the side of the tub. With her good hand she scooped up a handful of water and leaning back, her eyes shut she trickled it slowly down her face, letting the warm liquid run down her cheeks, into the hollow of her neck, and down her chest.

Logan shut his eyes and looked away, only to open at them again and see her staring back at him through the mirror. She seemed to be smiling, and even through the steamed up glass he could see the sharp glint in her eyes, and realised it was more than he could bear.

Turning right around he stomped out of the room, sick of both himself and her, slamming the door behind him as he went. Marie's smile only widened.

* * *

She eventually emerged out of the bathroom to find a fresh skirt and top laid out on the bed for her, she smiled, at the rate she'd gotten through her clothes these past weeks she'd have to end up going shopping soon. With any luck fleecing the money from one of the newbie mutant kids wouldn't be a problem. 

Pulling on the clothes, and passing a hand to shake her hair loose, she pressed her injured hand to her side and stepped out of the room. It was the same, nothing had changed, at least in appearances, it was strange, she hadn't really known what to expect, but six months away from the academy, leading the kind of life most of these X-kids only saw in the movies had seemed like a lifetime in a whole other world.

But being back here, seemed to peel away the years, back to when she had first shown up as a frightened teenager, when her powers had awoken. She'd arrived and everything was disorientating and awkward, every kid had ability, something that made them special.

And what had she ended up with, a curse, a gene that rendered her more lonely and awkward, and afraid no matter how many people they surrounded her with, their mutations never ever served to alienate quite as much as hers did. She would see them, running around, laughing, having normal teenage lives, and no matter what she did, or how she tried she never quite fit in.

It wasn't a matter of conforming, she had only wanted what they all took for granted, the ability to touch, to heal, to love and laugh the way they did, without all the cautions, the endless worry and fear, and the pain, constant pain.

And even after she had taken the cure, after she had grabbed for that lifeline she'd trusted in, aching to save herself, they offered her nothing, except the same curious glances, until eventually they had pushed her aside altogether.

_'You're never gonna fit in kid…you ain't supposed to, like we keep sayin' you're special…' _

Marie stopped, the voice, softer and gentler than she had been used to hearing, she could feel them smile, and she smiled alongside them, 'Gee thanks, ya know all the right things to say…'

_'Then how 'bout this kid, this is a bad idea, we both know you can't stay here…you know what'll happen…to you and to them…'_ . And there it was the hint of menace that had become so intrinsic to _her_ nature that it seemed almost odd that Marie missed it when it wasn't there.

But now it stopped her in her tracks, '_them' _she was used to the idea that her time was running short, but she hadn't anticipated something happening to this place and to these people, these kids.

No doubt about it, she couldn't and wouldn't stay. But right now what she needed was a break, tired from running and the constant movement, she was curious, if nothing else, curious enough to wonder if she really had left anything of herself back here.

_'Alright kid…let's play your little game, jus' as long as you don't go changing the rules…no point getting attached all over again…' _

Marie nodded in agreement, and moved along the corridor, she was convinced she could hear them, the whispers, the half stares that greeted her, the strange, empty gazes behind closed doors that made her grit her teeth, in a house full of mutants, and suddenly she was the odd one out again.

* * *

Well at least this was new, Marie was stood before the glass cabinet outside the main office, staring at her reflection in the glass, only it wasn't just her reflection, the others, for the first time she was catching glimpses of them, ghostly, ethereal like beings darkening the space around, stood to her side and behind her, whispers nothing more, and disappearing in seconds, but if Marie had ever any doubt, it was now gone for good. 

She moved closer to the glass, pressing a fingertip to the cool surface, closing her eyes and feeling the planes of her mind shift, she saw the past days play out, a demented movie reel of all that had happened, every step that she had taken, in bright green, green like the liquid she drowned, green like the cages suspended from dark ceilings, green as the lights she hated.

She hissed in a sharp breath, as pain took over once more, a nail through the head, sharp red hot, and tearing through every one of her senses, she staggered back and pressed her head against the wall, the ache subsided at last into a dull whine weighing heavy on her neck, she counted to ten before remembered to breathe again.

The sound of Storm's voice talking low carried over to her from the office, Marie could catch the concern in her tone, and shaking her head clear, she moved closer towards the door to get a better listen.

'Have you any idea what they want…' Marie pressed closer to the door, straining to hear the conversation. She heard Logan answer, his tone grim.

'They want Marie…it's that simple,' he seemed to be pacing, she could tell by the heavy shuffling of his feet.

'But why..?' Storm's question was as natural as anything else, all that Logan had told her about soldiers, and phantoms chasing and hunting them down seemed to make no sense, the last time she had seen such wanton destruction was Stryker, and she had seen the damage that attack had done. The scattering of the students, the sheer misery that bastard had wrought on the Academy had taken months to repair, but the emotional and mental scars had taken so much longer to heal. Storm had first lost her friend after that miserable event; she had lost many more since then.

Now, the idea that such sorrow, such misery could return and wreak havoc over all their lives again was a fear that struck heavy on her heart, she did not have the strength she had used to, losing the Professor, Scott and Jean had seen to that.

Logan sighed heavily, staring out of the large bay windows into the dark grounds below, the only explanation he could offer was a poor one, 'I don't know what's goin' on Storm, all I got was somethin' 'bout Weapon X and chemistry sets.' His next words came with a bitter pained tone, 'all I know is that they changed her, whatever they've done, that girl isn't Marie, sure she looks and even sounds the same, but they've changed her. Whatever they pored in or even took out, that girl is gone, the one we knew is gone…, I'm sure of it.'

Silence filled the room, Marie stepped back and gritted her teeth, angry at his words, he was right, the Marie of six months ago was gone, but only to be replaced by something better, stronger, unwilling to be hurt by him, and everyone else here, better, tougher than she'd ever been.

'Logan, you say all this started after you saw them injecting her with something, you think it may account for the differing personalities you think she's adapted?' Doc McCoy's deep voice cut through the still air.

'I don't think Doc…I know, there are others, in that head of hers, hundreds of them even, I saw them, behind those eyes, I saw her raise a gun and shoot me, I saw her blow a couple soldiers to hell and back. Those 'personalities', they're real and ye know what, she says she's in control, but she ain't. I've seen them push her back, and take over…and ye can trust me Doc when I say it ain't pretty.'

'But if all this can be attributed to some sort of chemical, a hallucinogenic compound perhaps, it's very much a possibility that we can treat her,' the doctor's voice was the only one that spoke with any hope.

Marie smiled at that, cure her? Not a chance, there was nothing he could, nothing anyone could do, not now, it was too damn late, she felt them, heard them, even saw them now, moving with her, moving inside her. And that was something that couldn't be treated.

'I hope so; at least she's safer now, right?' Nobody replied to Storm's remark, 'I mean here with us, we can take care of her…'

Marie shook her head having heard enough, she turned the handle to the door and stepped in quickly. 'Take care of me huh?' She fixed both Storm and Logan with a cold stare, 'and ya did such a good job of that before.' The sarcastic tone in her voice was clear, 'but ya know…' she continued, 'maybe ah will stick around, just see what the good doc finds.'

She smirked and turned to walk away, but not before calling out over her shoulder, 'ya don't really want me here do ya?' her eyes glinted as she smile at Storm, 'ah don't blame ya Ms Monroe, 'cause ya know what they say right? Where else would ya hide a freak but in a circus?' She smiled widely at them all now, 'and if ah can figure that out, ya can sure as hell bet they have as well.'


	28. You Kill Me

_'Can't stop thinkin musta been trippin this evening  
My mind is racing demons and all of my feelings are numb_

_Yeah and when I roll with my head in the wind  
And I feel like the king of the  
Dead men wishin they had gotten together with you girl  
But you're a dirty little liar with a message of obsession to come_

_Can't stop drinking I'm cold, kicking and bleeding…' -__Dirty Little Thing- _Velvet Revolver

* * *

** Part 28-'You Kill Me, And You Better Believe I'm Bitter…' **

He spluttered against the liquid filling his lungs, burning the back of his throat, he thrashed wildly against chains that held him, the cage and water rocking with his efforts. He heard them snap, one of his arms breaking free; he heard alarms blare as he ripped the rest of his limbs from the chains holding him.

He rose like a behemoth from those waters, spraying liquid everywhere as he shook his head and growled, the rambling from deep within his chest shook the walls, as he lashed wildly at everything that moved. His swipes proved deadly as the shadows around him disappeared as quickly as they had come.

Struggling to pull himself out of the tank, his skeleton feeling like a dead weight he hurried along the empty dark corridors, smeared with the sticky red of blood, he felt the sensation crawl over his skin, cold and damp, the taste of blood hanging about every inch of him.

The sound of sharp metal caught his ears as he stopped and brought his aching hands up to his face, his anguished roar reverberated as his sight met that of the razor sharp blades hanging between his knuckles, the skin that was sliced open to accommodate them screamed in pain, he watched the blood coat the metal, but still it shone with a perverseness that was almost sickening.

Dragging his feet forward once more he headed for what he could only pray was a way out, a sharp chink of light at the end of the corridor beckoned him and he stumbled forward blindly. Grasping what appeared to be a handle he wrenched the door open, and was forced to cover his eyes with the back of his arms, the sudden harsh light causing pinpricks in the back of his eyes.

He blinked away the blurriness and stepped forward again, only to be stopped by a shadow that stood directly in front of him, it stepped forward and he thought he recognised the hair, the two-tone streaks, distinctive to only one girl.

But it couldn't be, not her.

She stood in front of him and smiled, a cruel, empty smile reaching up she kissed him softly on the lips, before he felt her plunge her hands into the pit of his stomach, he felt his lungs collapse, cold metal wrapping around the vein of his heart and squeezing tight, and all the time she kept on smiling.

'Logan…' she whispered, 'Logan…' louder this time, until she practically shouted 'LOGAN….!'

He awoke with a start only to find something, someone straddling him and shaking him awake, growling loudly he grabbed at it and turning over pinned it beneath him. His claws shot out in an instant, holding them firmly to the neck of his assailant.

Breathing heavily, he watched as his every breath caused the short tufts of her hair to billow, staring waiting for his eyes to adjust to the dim light, his feral gaze at last caught her eyes, chocolate brown and burning, he stared down at Marie as she stared up at him.

'Same dream…?' she asked him quietly, she was wearing nothing but her shirt and panties, he had nothing on but the jeans he had gone to sleep in, his skin damp from perspiration it stuck to her shirt from where their bodies met. Smiling wickedly she adjusted and wrapped her long bare legs around his waist, he moaned softly.

But he remembered the girl in his dreams, the image coming to the fore he growled loudly at her, before reaching down and pushing her legs away, he rolled away from her, 'Yeah…' he muttered, 'same dream.'

She leaned up against him once more, running her good hand down the length of his back, and wrapped it around his waist, 'think ah could kiss it better?' she whispered in his ear, kissing his neck softly as she did so.

He shut his eyes tightly, fought the desire that coursed through him, and saw that soft smile all over again, the one right before she had plunged her hands into his chest and bled him dry. It was easier to push her away then, taking her arm and pushing her away he turned his back on her, 'Go back to sleep Marie.'

He spoke defiantly; she smiled and shook her head, but climbed back into the bed all the same, 'let me know if ya change your mind,' she promised him, her eyes glinting in the dark.

Logan didn't answer, his mind was racing, 'yep, same dream,' he thought, 'just one big difference, this time around _you _ kill me.'

* * *

It would have been impossible for either of them to sleep, round about four that morning she heard him get up, pull on his shirt and jacket and head out of the door. Pushing the bed sheets away she stood by the window as she heard him start up the bike and disappear out of the Academy grounds. 

Her eyes shifted over to a small memorial situated prominently in the middle of the grounds, and the three headstones that stood there. She remembered the grief, the mourning, sat listening to the tears and muffled sobs of those around her, as they said their final goodbyes to their mentors, leaders and friends.

The Professor's funeral had been first, and it had been such a beautiful day, shining bright, the sun had warmed them all even as doubt for the future hung in the head and heart of every single one of them. An immense change had been coming, they had heard about Scott's disappearance, Jean's deception and now, here they sat burying what had been the cornerstone of their school, the head of their unique family, Professor Xavier.

Marie remembered it perfectly, remembered tugging at her gloves, looking up as Storm gave her obituary, recalling her words as she'd shot down the idea of the cure. She'd reached for Bobby's hand then, seeking something solid, something assured and wondering how it would feel to touch his skin.

_ His _skin, her eyes drifted as she looked up at the window of his room, she saw Logan standing there, looking down at her, meeting her gaze briefly, his expression solid and unmoving, she had shut her eyes and looked away then, and when she searched for him again in the window he was gone.

And he stayed gone for the longest while, had kept away when they had buried Jean, and when they had erected a simple headstone next to hers for Scott. And when he finally did come back his return hadn't been a major event, not even for her. By the time he had returned the school had reformed back into a state of comfortable numbness, each of them telling themselves they'd be ok.

Marie turned away from the window now, a heavy sigh escaping her before she could stop it, pulling on her skirt she left the room and moved softly down the stairs, making her way barefoot across the cool grass to stand in front of the memorial, crossing her good arm over her chest, hugging herself tightly she simply stood staring as she had been doing moments before in the window.

It was too dark to make out the words, but she didn't need to read to understand, the graves had come to mean so much for all of them, and those months after their deaths she had never felt more alone, as everything had changed for her. She had taken the cure, thinking then naively that things would change only for the better, Bobby would love her more, she'd fit in at last, and she'd enjoy living the teenage life she'd always craved.

Only nothing ever works out they we hope, and Marie, she ended up more disappointed than most, broken and praying for just a little faith. She stared at the graves, and felt her throat closing up, her chest constricting as a heavy weight threatened to crush her from the inside out.

Slowly, ever so slowly after the cure she had become aware of the feelings in her that were dying, nothing felt, tasted or even smelt the same, and even in the middle of this school with its hundreds of different students she'd felt wrong, now even more so than before.

And finally, after coming back from the clinic, finding Bobby with Kitty, finding no one had really missed her, even though she'd been gone for most of that day, and realising she couldn't feel it. Not anger, not hate, nothing…there was nothing there, just a huge void where every other sensation was supposed to be.

Then there had been Logan, the one she'd turned to help fill that void but he'd let her down as well, and that's when she'd decided it was time to leave. For the past few months it had been like holding back a tidal wave of self doubt that wasn't helped by the way the other mutant kids stared at her, the whispers, and the hushed conversations that began as soon as she left a room, or stopped just as soon as she entered, like she'd broken some kind of unspoken mutant code, thou shalt not decide your own future.

So in the end leaving had been one of the easiest decisions of her life and she had not regretted a minute of it. She had never felt like she'd fit in, and they'd never done anything to convince her otherwise, but out there alone and cured, she had made the choices, chose the people she wanted to fit in with, even if that had been the cheap ass bars she'd found herself working in.

'Do you miss them…?' the voice behind her caught her by surprise, Marie looked around quickly, she hadn't even realised how long she'd been stood there, now the first light of the morning had appeared on the horizon. She met the soft gaze of Storm and first staring at her a while moved at last to walk past her.

'No…' she replied quietly, 'not really.' Ms Monroe probably knew she was lying, because she smiled all the same, standing where Marie had been stood, 'everything changes…isn't that right Marie?' she called out after her.

Marie stopped and looked back up at the mansion, her voice harder now, 'and sometimes nothing changes. My being here is still causing ya problems, and ya still can't look me in the eye…'

She saw Storm's shoulders sag, her words cutting straight to the truth, it was Ms Monroe who had been most vocal against the cure, it was her behaviour, her attitude that the other mutant kids looked to as an example, perhaps if she had been kinder, the others would have fallen in line as well.

And then, perhaps Marie wouldn't have felt so alone in a school full of hundreds of people.

Marie stepped forward before she relented just a little, 'Ah meant to say thanks…' Storm turned slightly to look at her, 'for the clothes.' And there was Storm's gentle smile again, a Goddess perhaps all too aware of her own sins, she shook her head before turning back to the memorial, 'Logan…' she spoke softly.

'What?' Marie asked, not quite sure she had heard properly.

'It was Logan…after you'd gone he took everything you left behind and put it in storage, clothes, make-up, jewellery,' she laughed gently, 'funny it's the most careful I've ever seen him be with anything, he folded everything up, packed it all neatly in a box and sealed it away on the top shelf of his closet. And he made sure everybody knew, that was Marie's stuff, Marie's shelf…and that nobody had better touch it, almost as if…'she hesitated, her voice shaking slightly, 'it was almost as if…'

'As if ah'd died…' Marie finished for her; Storm nodded and wrapped her arms around herself as Marie walked back into the mansion.

* * *

She sat in the kitchen for the next few hours waiting for the rest of the house to wake up, sitting at the counter nursing a huge mug of coffee and only regretting she couldn't find a single drop of scotch to add to it, she smiled widely at the first person to enter the kitchen that morning, Bobby. 

_'Let the games begin…'_ Marie heard them awaken and was glad for it; she had been getting awful lonely these past few hours.

'Hey Bobby…' she called out to him cheerfully, whilst he shifted from one foot to the other nervously, 'the coffee's fresh.' She nodded at her cup inviting him to join her. For the longest while he simply stared, as if she hadn't suddenly reappeared back at the mansion late last night, but had simply materialised that very morning and was now sat at a very familiar kitchen counter.

Eventually pouring himself a coffee he came to sit opposite her, his eyes roamed over her now shorter cut hair, down to the half buttoned shirt and towards her long bare legs. She caught his gaze and smiled, he took a long swig of his coffee, 'Look Marie…I'm sorry for the way things ended up between us, I didn't mean for it to happen like that, the way I acted was…'

'Real shitty, like a complete asshole, a desperate horny, couldn't-keep-it-in-his pants bastard…?' she answered for him helpfully. He nodded, 'yeah, I never meant to hurt you.'

'Forget it,' she got up and taking her coffee with her went to sit closer to him, so close their knees almost touching, she leant in to him, the top of her shirt straining and spoke sweetly, 'it's water under a very old bridge Bobby.'

Brushing her fingers across his fingers, and trailing her hand up his arm, she stood up and leant in close to whisper in his ear, 'Ya know ah kinda missed this place, and some o' the people in it, 'cause ya know its true what they say, ya don't know what ya got 'til it's gone…'

Her lips were almost touching his ear now, 'D'ya have any idea what ya got Bobby?' She smiled as she heard him swallow loudly; her finger continued trailing over his arm and along his shoulder blades, as she moved to leave the kitchen she came face to face with a still yawning Kitty.

Laughing slightly, at the surprised look on her face as she stared first at Marie and then Bobby, she called out playfully, 'see ya round Bobby.'

* * *

Balancing precariously on the chair she reached for the sealed box on the top shelf of Logan's closet, stretching out on tip-toe she pulled it closer to the edge of the wood aiming to grasp it but before she could the box fell to the floor, one of its sides tearing open and the contents spilling out. 

It really was true; he had packed away everything she'd left behind, her clothes, the long sleeved shirts she'd never consider wearing again, the small earrings he'd given her for one of her birthdays and a number of other things. Climbing down from the chair, she simply stared; she'd promised him she'd leave for good, that night in this room. Her gaze naturally fell on the brown leather chair in the opposite corner, the place she'd sat as she'd spilled her guts out to him, wanting, aching for him to fix it for her.

And that table where he'd stood and she'd kissed him, this room, all those memories, and she couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he'd simply given her what she wanted, if he hadn't been such a coward and let himself feel everything she already knew he felt for her.

_'Whatever happened to not gettin' attached again kid?' _

'Just a bit of history,' she smiled, reassuring them, 'don't ya know it's good for the soul, saves ya from makin' the same mistakes again…' she felt them approve.

The room door was pushed open and she saw Logan step into the room, his clothes smelled of beer, cigars and cheap perfume. She stared at him as he went to lay flat out on the bed, 'well ain't that nice, ya go out and have all the fun, while ah'm up half the night all alone tossin' and turnin', she laughed as he gave her the finger, 'fuck off Marie.'

Banging the door loudly as she left, she stared at Logan's closed door and smiled, yep there was nothing like history to save ya from making the same mistakes again.


	29. The Prodigal Daughters

_A/N: Both Marie and Mystique mark their return_

**Part 29- 'The Prodigal Daughters…'**

_'Dirty little secret  
Dirty little lies  
Say your prayers and comb your hair  
Save your soul tonight…_

_Do you remember me?  
And the kid I used to be?  
Do you remember me?_

_I will not forgive…' –__**Apocalyptica**_

* * *

She'd been too damn slow; those steel shutters hadn't gone up fast enough. The technique, those mind blocks, the only damn thing she'd been grateful to the old bastard for teaching her hadn't gone up fast enough. It was the shock, despite everything she'd read, all the reports she'd spent hours going over, with Toad breathing down her neck as he read over her shoulder, despite everything she thought was coming, she hadn't been prepared for this.

She hadn't been fast enough, and he'd gotten in. Stepping into that vault and that room, waiting as the strobe lights lit up the walls. Those cages, hung from the ceiling, suspended in a sickening green glow…there were so many; so many that they faded into the distance, stretching on endlessly, and for the longest while she could only stare.

And that's when it happened; she felt it, the shifting in the planes of her mind, a gentle nudging. Almost instantly she saw the past few days play over, a movie reel in her mind that run on its own accord, she saw herself, laying a trap for Bishop, catching him in her net and then killing him. She saw Bishop fall down the cliff, the smile that played on her face as she watched him tumble head over ass, helpless and useless; everything she had felt those months the cure had ravaged her body.

Long months, aching miserable months where she was everything she hated, where she was one of _them_…human, helpless and useless. And at last she saw herself as she was now, in the guise of Bishop. She was in his skin, down to the last shreds of his DNA, using her mutant ability, Mystique had been reborn, free of that damn cure that had burned, and that had cut sharper than any sort of hell.

All of this, a singular instant, a lapsed concentration for just a few seconds had let him get in. Truth was she hadn't really been ready, those facts and reports had said he was alive but even then she had doubted. But not any more, scrambling to push the memories away, her eyes flickered upwards and to the centre of the vault.

She saw him staring back at her, through the glass of his cage, changed in every aspect of his appearance, from the hollowness of his cheeks, the firmness of his jaw and right to the fact that he even had a full head of hair. But it was him, Professor Xavier; she knew it was him, even if the wheelchair hadn't been a massive clue.

Only he had that sort of ability, that psychic presence to reach through sheets of glass and push aside the planes of her mind so easily, so quickly. Shock froze her to the spot, she too had heard of Xavier's death, and like Magneto she too had mourned, briefly.

Magneto…her gaze shifted slowly, from Xavier's cage and to the one that hung next to it. His face slightly hidden in shadow, she could make out the silver streaks of his hair, the wrinkles in his skin, and she knew it was him.

Her cold eyes hidden behind the deep brown of Bishop's stared up at her former leader, and the sight made her stomach churn. And it was from hate more than anything else; she remembered the last time she had seen the old man, lying cold and naked on that floor, looking up at him as pain ravaged her body and aching over the coldness in his voice as he had walked away.

Mystique gritted her teeth, he had never known a loyalty like hers, she would have followed him to the end of the world because his cause had made sense, every mission, every situation she had obeyed without question. He hadn't known a loyalty like hers, but she knew of his betrayal and soon he would know what it was to pay.

She had crawled through hell to get her revenge, now she would drag him back through it. Looking back at Xavier one last time, she smiled softly and allowed recognition to settle in on him. He knew her; he knew who she was…Mystique; the only thing he didn't know was how she intended to play this whole thing out.

And that made her smile, even as she walked away, a grin lighting her face up, at last she was in control and that meant both Magneto and Xavier had something to be worried about.

* * *

Marie smiled quietly to herself, turned out she didn't mind the way they stopped and stared, striding down that Academy hallway wearing a skirt cut sinfully short showing off her long legs, and a shirt buttoned up only halfway made most of the students, those who knew her and those who had only heard about her, turn to look in her direction more than once.

Her hair loose and falling about her shoulders swayed with the rhythm of her hips, she liked the way stared, the way they stopped to watch her walk past, the low wolf whistles, and the jealous stares. It all made her feel alive, like she was back at Starkey's, back in control, showing just as much skin as she wanted and not nearly enough for some of the punters back at the bar and the teenage boys here at the Academy.

Time was she'd shrink back, before the cure almost hugging the wall as she walked past, pressed close to the sides of the corridors worried, always scared someone would brush past her, touch her skin on skin and she'd end up with a head full of someone else's life. She hated that; she'd always had so much up there, first Cody and Magneto and then Logan, it had always been crowded.

It was crowded now, but even that was okay, because she was in control, she wasn't scared anymore. They were a part of her, if anything they were almost like family now, a demented, slightly psychotic one, but a family all the same.

And it felt good, it gave her all the confidence she could ever need and then some. It made them stop and stare, it made her smile. She stopped in front of the recreation room, and pushing open the wide double oak doors stepped into the vast room.

The effect was almost instant, all heads turned to look, a silence fell as she stood in the doorway, it seemed the prodigal daughter really was back. There was Bobby and Kitty sat close together in the corner, Marie saw Kitty tighten her grip on Bobby's hand and Marie laughed a little at that.

She certainly was having an effect, there was nothing like making an entrance. Her injured arm pressed close to her chest she went to sit in the deep, brown leather chair that was parked under a window, leaning back, with one long bare leg crossed over the other; she took a magazine from the table to her right and made a point of pretending to read.

Instead now and again she skimmed the room, looking for faces she recognised, and making a mental note of those she didn't. One kid in particular stood out for her, he was a skinny, pimply faced little thing, couldn't have been more than fourteen and Marie half wondered if the kid had been dumped here by mistake, he sure as hell didn't look like any mutant she could guess at.

She watched as he stood at the side of the pool table, staking his money on a game, she watched as a mutant she sure as hell recognised smiled widely at him. Jesse Rivers, she knew him perfectly and as she watched him work the kid over she smiled and shook her head.

Jesse had grown up on the mean streets of Harlem, heavy built, tall, dark and very dangerous he loved to work a hustle; it had kept food in his mouth and a roof over his head. But he had been forced out, when the marks he worked over found out about his ability, the roof and the food was gone was always every time they forced him out, only the last time he had been lucky to make it to the Academy alive.

Back then she'd never given Jesse much thought, sure he'd flirted with her, but that was nothing, turned out he flirted with anything with a pulse and a skirt. Now, Marie guessed she related more to this guy then she did to most of the other Academy kids 'cause of his rough upbringing, though that didn't mean she liked him any more.

Jesse sure liked to work a hustle, only Marie didn't like the mark he had picked this time, this kid looked like a rabbit caught in the headlights, he was new, he had that new mutant Academy arrival stink all over him, and for Jesse to take advantage, well that just wasn't fair.

Marie saw Jesse clean the table up, never even letting the kid get in a shot; she'd seen Rivers work this hustle before, deliberately losing the first game and maybe a second for small money, and then pretending to be reckless and throwaway big money by gambling bigger. And that was when he usually stepped up his game, and if Jesse got lucky, he usually reeled in a sap like this kid, who just didn't know when to quit and walk away.

'Double or nothing…' she heard the kid say, his voice shaking just a little. Well at least the kid had nerves; either that or he had more cash than sense. She saw Jesse snigger, 'Hey it's your money…'

This time he let the kid get in a few shots before he buried him, the kid sure was a fool; Jesse was playing him, his mutant ability giving him all the advantage he could ever need, as long as the kid thought he was playing a fair game he was never going to win.

She watched for as long as she could before she decided to interfere, hell if any was gonna advantage of these newbie mutants it ought to have been her. Tossing the magazine aside she made her way over to the pool table. All eyes followed, she could hear them all hold their breath waiting, watching for her next move.

Her arm still pinned dramatically to her side, Marie smiled sweetly as she stopped in front of Jesse. 'Hey…' she looked up at him, her shoulders drawn back, and biting her lip ever so softly.

Jesse grinned down at her, 'Marie…heard you were back…' his words carried over to her and just about everyone else, his clear city accent biting out behind a confident smirk. Marie kept smiling, and leant in closer, 'oh yeah…?'

'Yeah, turns out with shorter hair, a tighter ass and just the wrong side of crazy,' he looked her up and down, his smirk growing wider.

'Well, ah guess this is one time ya should believe everythin' ya hear,' she promised him. She reached out and grasped the pool cue he was holding, running her hand up and down the wood she pressed still closer until she was within inches of him. 'Still tryin' to make out ya can play?'

He flashed the money he had won under her eyes, 'The green stuff says it all baby…' Marie smiled, closing her eyes, her lips moistened she breathed in his scent, and even she had to admit he smelled good. Her lips barely inches from his neck she moved up along the line of his jaw, blowing a soft breath across his cheek, her lips nestled in his hair close to his ear.

Her hand gripped his over the pool cue and she squeezed gently, 'how 'bout playin' with me…baby?'

Marie pressed her lips gently to his ear lobe and murmured gently, stepping back at last she saw him swallow, the grin practically plastered to his face, 'Oh yeah, just what're you bringing to the table Marie?'

She smiled seductively, 'Me…' Her words decisive and clear had everybody holding their breath wondering if they had heard just right.

'You..?' Jesse repeated. She nodded, 'Ah saw the way ya used to look at me before ah left, well ah'm back now and here's your chance to do somethin' 'bout it.' Taking the cue from him she walked around to the other end of the table, and nodded towards the kid Jesse had fleeced.

'Me against everythin' ya won off the kid, if ah win kid gets his money back, every last cent of it…'

'And what if I win?' Jesse asked, his eyes lit up and his smile wide.

Marie moved close to him again, leaning forward her shirt strained and the top of her bra showing, she looked up him her voice deadly serious, 'if ya win, ya get me…all of me. For one night only ah'll show ya jus' how much ah've changed,' gripping his shirt she pulled him close, 'ah'm all touchable now Jesse and trust me baby, ya won't be disappointed, cause this is one time ya really can believe everything ya hear.'

Her lips close to his, she stared at him, her next words barely a whisper spoken for his ears alone, 'And ah really do mean everythin' Jesse, shorter hair, tighter ass and…' she paused, saw his eyes bulge as her hand moved down his chest, 'darlin' ya can't imagine what sort of freak in bed.'

Pushing him back she waited for the answer she always knew was coming, still she coaxed him out just a little more, 'Come on Jesse, not scared of losin' are ya, look at me, how good d'ya really think ah'm gonna be with this busted arm?'

'Uh…' he struggled to speak, 'Ok, it's a deal, you against everything I won from the kid.' Nodding she chalked up her cue and set the balls, all with her injured arm held tightly to her chest. 'Mind if ah break?' He shrugged and she went to lean over the edge of the table.

Resting her cue on the edge, balancing it with one hand, she leaned forward her ass sticking high in the air, her shirt straining as she bent and watched out of the corner of her eye as Jesse came to stand behind her.

Smiling, an invitation for him to step just a little closer, she waited until he was practically breathing down her neck, then stepping back, she shifted her stance, pulling the cue until it balanced precariously on the edge of the table, the front of the cue just about on the felt and the rest of the wood hanging back down towards the floor. The cue see-sawed up and down gently, she smiled over her shoulder once more at Jesse, making sure he was exactly where she wanted him.

Then, without warning she slammed her hand on the front of the cue, the back end snapped upwards, flying through the air, and dumb Jesse was exactly where Marie had wanted him. The thick end of the pool cue swished through the air, right between Jesse's legs, motion giving it all the force it needed it hit with a sharp thud and connected solidly with his crotch!

He all but screamed, a sharp wince pierced the air as every male in the room let out a collective moan and crossed their legs in sympathy. Even the pimply kid let out a short sharp whistle, 'holy crap…that's gotta hurt,' he called out helpfully.

Marie nodded, smiling down at the still writhing Jesse, who by now had tears of pain streaming down his face as he clutched his crotch. She went back to the game; taking aim with her one good hand she hit the cue ball perfectly, it smacked into the set and she watched as at least four coloured balls sank into the pockets around the table.

And then she went on to call her shots out loud, every ball sinking in the pocket she chose, all with just one arm, she'd cleared the table in minutes leaving the black eight ball, sitting in the middle of the table.

Standing over a whimpering Jesse, she nodded towards the pimply kid who could only stare at her, 'call it,' she told him. 'Huh?' he stammered, before he realised she was telling him to name the winning shot she had to make, 'r-right centre pocket.'

She screwed up her face in disgust, 'Too damn easy, come on kid, at least make it interesting.' He tried again, 'Ok, how about the top left…' Now there was a shot that was damn near impossible, Marie smiled and nodded her approval.

She took her shot, and it seemed as if the whole Academy had stopped to watch, as the black ball bounced off three cushions, rolling towards the top left pocket, stopping dramatically before it finally dropped in for the win.

Marie didn't even bother to wait before she took the money from Jesse, who still curled up on the floor, held it up in one hand, the other still held tightly over his crotch, she plucked it right out of his hand, smiling widely, 'nice playin' ya Rivers,' she clicked her tongue, 'might wanna put some ice on that. Bobby should be able to help ya out…'

She handed the money over to the kid, he reached out for it slowly, 'my name's Charlie…and thanks, I guess.'

'Here's a tip for ya kid, wake up and realise when you're bein' hustled, Jesse there has a lil thin' for kinetic energy, the balls on that table were only gonna move when and where he wanted 'em to, ya were never gonna win, not unless ya played just as dirty as he does.'

'But ah guess the rest of these kids ought to have told ya that before ya started throwin' you're money away…' she swept her gaze across the room, accusing each of them in turn.

'Ya better learn to start lookin' after yourself kid, 'cause around here they have a habit of lettin' ya down.' She stepped around him and walked towards the door. The prodigal daughter had returned and this time she had no intention of fading into the background.

* * *

Magneto regarded Xavier curiously; he was staring after Bishop, his face pale and his eyes wide in shock.

'Charles…?' He called out, 'Charles, what's the matter, you look like you've seen a ghost.'

Professor Xavier turned to look at him, shaking his head he spoke in a low whisper, 'I'm not sure, but I think the tables might be turning at last…


	30. Mean Streak

**Part 30- 'Mean Streak…'**

The tables were indeed turning, but Charles could have no way of knowing just how far, or even how far in their favour. Mystique was here, and however capable or ruthless he knew her to be, being here meant being in a bunker at least a couple of hundred miles underground surrounded by the enemy.

Mystique dressed up as one of them, dressed up as Bishop, but what did that mean? Was Bishop being held somewhere, had Mystique locked him up on his own little cage, or something else? Aware of Mystique's vicious nature, Charles perhaps knew the certainty in the few moments it took to consider the possibilities.

Bishop was dead. Mystique wouldn't take the risk or trouble of keeping him alive; she'd probably taken every pleasure in the poor bastard's death. Charles found the corners of his mouth turn upward into a cold smile before he could stop himself. For the briefest moment he had actually enjoyed reflecting on the end of Bishop, exalting in the idea that he had suffered just as much as he deserved, as much as he had made the mutants in this room suffer.

It was the briefest moment, but it left Charles feeling cold. How far had he fallen to actually enjoy the idea of death, it was not him, hoped it would never be him. But this cage, this situation, these damned circumstances were tearing away at a soul he thought he could hold onto.

How much of his humanity had he already lost, how much of his compassion had already been eroded, and what did he have left? What did he have to hold onto, a hope, a prayer, or a dream?

Marie. His thoughts flew back to Marie …humanity, however much he had left, it was nothing compared to what they would rip from her. What they would take from her, a soul, a hope, a dream maybe more…and he would help them do it.

Mystique…which way would she force these tables to turn, how much humanity existed in her, how much compassion? Little or next to nothing at all, he couldn't be surprised, they'd already taken the very essence of her, stripped her of that mutant DNA with that damn cure of theirs and she'd been through hell to get it back.

Charles had seen the way she'd looked at Magneto; she held all the cards, she could turn the tables anyway she wanted to, and humanity or compassion were not her strong suit.

* * *

Marie sat swinging her legs, kicking one foot out and then the other, watching the quiet rhythm she beat out, singing along to a song only she seemed to hear. She'd decided to visit the Doc just hours after sending Jesse there; she'd made the visit purely out of having nothing better to do.

She watched Doc McCoy quietly gathering his equipment, his massive figure taking up most of the med lab, the white lab coat he wore straining to contain his muscled physique.

Yet to Marie, he seemed to be completely comfortable. In this place, the lab and his lab coat he was completely at ease, a sense of belonging. Oddly enough the Doc was at home in this place, with its clinical white lines and cold steel, and even the oversized lab gurney she now sat on was home for him.

To anyone else that just wouldn't have made sense, what with his huge hairy hands it'd look odd the way he knew his way around all the expensive and complicated equipment but he seemed perfectly attuned with everything in this place. He moved with precision, no wasted motion, everything perfectly in step, it was almost poetic.

She smiled wryly at him as he swung the tray of instruments around towards her; his own approach towards her was tentative, he smiled widely and stood stock still, almost as if he was waiting for some sort of cue.

'I'm glad you finally came to see me Marie, I've been worried about that arm of yours, that makeshift sling doesn't look entirely suitable.' His deep voice rolled and seemed to fill the med lab just as much as his physical presence.

Marie laughed slightly, 'Ya know what, you're right Doc, it ain't all that 'suitable',' she began to undo the knot at the top of her shoulder, and pulled the material away dropping it to the floor. She straightened out her arm, stretching the muscle, and rotated the arm up and around.

'Marie…wait, that's…that's impo_'_ssible,' and he was right it ought to have been, she had been shot, just days ago, any movement with that arm ought to have been medically impossible.

Marie couldn't help but smile at the expression on the Doc's face, seemed she was making a mess of his neat little theories and his neat little lab. He reached out, his large blue fingers touching the flesh of her shoulder tentatively, the glasses on the bridge of his nose pressed closer to have a look at what was now little more than a deep black scar.

Truth was she'd long felt the bullet wound healing over; the skin knitting together, the searing pain of torn flesh, muscle and bone had ebbed on their way back to the Academy, she'd kept the sling to avoid questions from Logan, and to give the rest of the x-kids here something to talk about.

She smiled at the inquisitive look on Doc's face, the surprised expression, she had a habit of making impressions, glad she hadn't lost that ability, she tapped Doc McCoy on the shoulder.

'Doctor McCoy, ya ever play pool?' the playful expression she wore did nothing to fool him.

He shook his head, 'I've seen something of the way you play pool Marie, young was in dire need of a strong sedative not a few hours ago.'

'Well in your case Doc, ah promise to only aim for the balls on the table…' there was a menacing glint in her eye that assured him that was not entirely true.

'Marie, I'd like to take some blood, perform an x-ray of this arm and perhaps a CT scan…that is if you would consent of course?'

He looked her over quizzically; there was something so intrinsically off about her, but whatever it was he was determined to crack it with science. Science he understood, science he could control, and could reason with, and for the same reasons he needed to understand Marie.

She shrugged her shoulders complying with his request, it made no difference now, the good Doc could probe and speculate all he wanted, it wasn't gonna change a damn thing. But it would keep her busy for a few hours, something to do, after the last few months being back at the Academy was so timid, so stoic. Nothing moved and nothing happened; the damn stillness of it all was killin' her.

The sooner she got these tests over with, the sooner she could go back to fuckin' with everybody's head, she still had her little games to play, sometimes a girl had to make her own sort of fun. And she would have her fun; this bitch was all about the payback.

She watched the Doc walk over to his little bank of computers, tapping away on the keyboard, she saw him take down notes, shaking his head now and again, muttering away.

'Hey Doc…' she called out to him, 'what happened over on Capitol Hill? One too many Blue Man group jokes..?'

She watched him turn to her slowly, 'Marie if you mean to inquire as to why I left my post as a White House advisor I believe there are less antagonistic means of getting the information you need.'

'But Doc, where's the fun in that?' She smiled widely, he was not her enemy, and she had no reason to hate him, in fact between all of them Doc had the least to feel guilty about when it came to her, but she wanted to push him all the same.

He stood up and approached her carefully once more, 'And do you mean to antagonise and isolate everyone here?' His voice, gentle but inquisitive was a poor attempt at psychoanalysis, at least for her, she saw right through it.

'Oh come on Doc, why the hell not, it ain't as if ah'm planning to stick around, not for long anyhow.' She was as guarded as ever, _they_ made sure of that. Her little family, keeping her aware, making sure she saw right through them and the tricks they tried to play with her.

He dragged over a stool and sat opposite, stared directly into her eyes as he spoke, searching the depths, looking through, hoping to see…to see what? What did the scientist look for in the eyes, a consciousness, a truth, and the windows to a soul rationality and science told them they didn't entirely believe in? What was he looking for, dilated pupils, the signs of a drug induced hallucination, or something else? Something Logan had spoken of, the others, remnant of a conscious, something other than this angry young woman, something more, something dangerous.

The silence dragged on, she didn't move an inch, daring him to see, to stare into her eyes and see until it left him as haunted as she was. He spoke at last, 'It's a shame you won't stay Marie, I'm sure there are many of us here who would miss you.'

She laughed outright at that, 'Yeah like who? Kitty, Ms Munroe or Jesse…'

'Logan…,' he paused waiting for a reaction, she offered him none, 'he would miss you Marie, just as much as he did the last time you left.' He smiled softly, but she shook her head, smiling just as widely as he did.

'Logan will get over it, or under it, whatever which way up the next dumb blonde likes her big bad Wolverine.'

'You don't really believe that do you Marie…?' He pressed his large hands over her smaller ones, 'I don't know what happened between the two of you, but Logan was unbearable to be around for the next few weeks, you know he packed up all the things you left behind…'

She pulled her hands away, 'Yeah Doc I heard all about that one, the little box he kept on that lonely little shelf of his, poor Logan right?' Her voice was becoming menacing by the second. 'If he misses me so much then why the hell did he come back last night smelling of cheap perfume and an easy lay?'

She stood up abruptly, 'Ah'm sick of everyone expecting me to apologise for leavin', way ah saw it back then nobody really gave a fuck.' And then the anger was gone as quickly as it came, she seemed to take a deep breath, and that all knowing smile was back, 'but ya know what Doc, it really doesn't matter not anymore, whatever happened back then, between me and Logan, that's exactly where it'll stay, back there.'

'There's nothing left to say Doc, nothing to say that matters, it's all ancient history, and if there's one thing to say for history its that it'll save you from makin' the same mistakes twice.'

* * *

Logan had been sat on the porch steps nursing a beer and his ego when the Doc had come looking for him. He'd been reliving his own history lesson, and of course in his mind events ran a little differently. He'd seen them sat on these steps that night, the same night Marie had left, sharing a beer, her tears, wrapping her up in his arms, a kiss, maybe something more.

But nothing, nothing like what they were going through now, barely recognising her one minute from the other, hating and wanting her in the same breath, and instead having to leave at four in the morning to get drunk.

Or at least getting blurry eyed enough to pick up a dark haired girl to pretend, just to make believe for an hour. Make believe she's lying underneath under him, staring deep into those brown eyes, tasting those plump lips of hers, wearing away the loneliness, burning away the hate for all the time they've wasted. Make believe that she smells of warm beer and ginger, and as she looks him wrapping her arms around his neck she'll tell him she wants him as much as he's wanted her, and it'll be the truth.

The truths, in his make believe fantasy she's never lied to him, and he's never lied to her. Never been a coward, never rejected her with his lies, never forced her to leave, and when she tells him they're alone together, really alone, without _them, _and he looks into her eyes it'll be the truth.

And make believe was exactly what it was; an hour later that dark haired girl was gone with the dollar bills he'd held out to her, and he's left alone in that cheap motel room, staring at the floor with the room smelling of rough sex, and her cheap perfume clinging to his skin, a stink he'd take back to the Academy with him, and back to Marie.

Back to the real world, where regrets are plain for him to see, in the way she stares out at him, where he faces the consequences, where she won't let him forget. And now standing in front of an x-ray trying to take in the Doc's words make him realise just how far he is from his make believe world.

'This is unprecedented Logan…' Doc McCoy gestured emphatically at the light box, 'so far I've only managed to retrieve the results for the x-rays but these are in themselves amazing.'

He stabbed at the x-ray, 'You say the bullet entered here, and exited here through the top of the shoulder?'

Logan shrugged, 'Yeah, clean exit wound, bullet from the sniper rifle just punched right through…'

'But look…look at this, Marie was shot, what just three days ago? Yet the Scapula and the acromion bone which ought to have been completely shattered are remarkably healed. Not to mention the articular cartilage…'

'What're you trying to say Doc?' Logan broke in impatiently.

'This sort of injury should take weeks, months to heal, not to mention the therapy required to make the arm even remotely useful again, but with Marie it's taken less than 72 hours…its simply remarkable…' He stared at Logan, shaking his head slightly, 'Her healing process is almost advanced as yours.'

* * *

Marie was hunched over raiding the back of the fridge when she found what she was looking for, Logan's beer. She smiled as she made a grab for the bottles, climbing out she kicked the fridge door shut and held the beer behind her back.

She made her way to the roof of the Academy, sitting on the highest turret, her bare feet kicking over the edge she sipped the beer, revelling in the quietness of the night, and the cool night air ruffling her shirt and passing over her legs.

Staring out across the way she spied the dots of city lights in the distance blinking on the horizon, winking at her, tempting her across the divide. She leaned forward; she missed it all, that constant movement, the unpredictability of life out there, lost in a scene with people as fucked up as she was.

She'd promised _them_ she wouldn't stick it out at the Academy for long, she wasn't going to stay, whatever little time she had left wouldn't be wasted here, but curiosity played its part still.

'_Don't ya know darlin'…curiosity killed the cat…'_ She nodded in agreement with the voice, took another swig from her beer, and soothed away the memories of this place. Her history here was stained, with every bitter regret and misery she'd found since before and after the cure. What did she want from this place; the deal with Logan had been that she would stay just until the Doc had looked her over, well he'd looked her over, so she really had no reason to stay.

_'Nothing but a long overdue chance to settle old scores…'

* * *

_

'There's something else Logan, something about Marie, her attitude and the bitterness she seems hell bent on inflicting on everybody. Did you hear about what happened to Jesse?'

Logan nodded, he walked across and sat down heavily on the gurney, 'Yeah, they tell me it wasn't pretty.'

'No it really wasn't, but I think Marie almost enjoyed the pain she caused, its disturbing, but until I finish the tests I can't be sure if the change in her can be attributed to drugs or something more intrinsic to her…' The Doc trailed off, and Logan nodded, he'd never seen the usually calm, cultured Doctor look this anxious.

Marie had them all worried, not least because she was making no effort to get along with anybody, instead she was making it her jobs worth to get on the wrong side of everybody, leaving in them in no doubt she was back and no one was safe.

'Ain't no doubt about it Doc, the kid's got a mean streak, about a half mile long.'

* * *

_The innocence that you spoiled…_

She'd been enjoying the peace for as long as it lasted, it didn't last long. She heard the heavy metal roof door slam shut, heard the shuffling of feet and the geeky looking kid from the pool match come to stand behind her.

'Hey…' his voice was just a bundle of nerves, and she half wondered once more if the kid had taken a wrong turn on his way to Scout camp.

'What d'ya want kid?' She called out gruffly, hoping he'd just turn back and leave, but she must have been losing her touch, because instead of leaving he sat down next to her, shuffling uneasily trying to get comfortable.

'I just wanted to say thanks again, you know, for helping me out back there…you're Marie right?' He said all this in a hurried nervous breath of words she only just managed to catch.

She really must be losing her touch, because instead of telling him to piss off, she sighed and took pity on the nervous kid, and offered him a beer, he reached out smiling widely before she stopped, 'wait how old are ya kid?'

'21…?' he offered hopefully, still smiling.

She scoffed, 'yeah right, sorry kid ah ain't buying it…' she put the bottle back down, leaving the kid empty handed.

He protested, 'you're not exactly legal age either,' she turned to look at him, a little surprised at the voice he'd seemed to have found. She smiled, 'trust me kid, ah'm older in ways you can't even imagine.'

They sat in silence, staring out across the darkness dazed by the lights blinking at them.

'You took the cure didn't you?'

He broke the silence with the one question that could have surprised her. She stared at him, shaking her head slightly, not quite believing she had heard right. Turned out she was actually beginning to like this kid, if nothing else he sure had a nerve.

'Jeez kid…get straight to the fuckin' point why don't ya?' He shrugged still waiting for an answer. 'So what if I did…?' her reply came more as a challenge.

He seemed to hunch over then, held out his hands in front of him and stared at them. 'I thought about it, the cure I mean…I wanted to, stood in that queue for hours but when it finally came down to it…I couldn't do it, I just couldn't.'

He stared at her, and staring back into those eyes, Marie thought she saw something of herself. Something like that kid she had been, standing in a queue over a year ago, scared witless, but knowing she had nowhere else left to turn.

Surprising herself she reached out and took and took the kids hand in her own, held on, 'what's your poison kid?' She asked him, holding up his hand, indicating his mutancy, the part of himself he'd tried to and failed to get rid of.

'EMP, electro-magnetic pulse, used to be a time I'd walk into a room and everything magnetic would just go haywire, phones, radios, computers, even damn toasters would just explode. Got to the point, Mum and Dad had to wrap my room literally in plastic and foil, lived like that for months, sort of a fucked up cocoon. They saw the report about the cure, pushed me to go for it, and I did, saw what my 'disability' was doing to them, so I went…but I couldn't go through with it, felt too much like…too much like…'

'Like rape…?' They were both surprised to find she finished the sentence for him. He nodded, holding on to her hand just that little bit tighter.

'Yeah…I couldn't do it, it would've been like ripping a part of myself out, and whatever it was putting me through, whatever Mum and Dad had been through I just couldn't, so I ended up here. I've gotten better control of it now…it isn't as random as it used to be, and I'm happier…'

She nodded, 'right, well ya can trust me kid that won't last, least not here.' Her voice was tinged with bitterness, she'd underestimated this kid, and he'd proved himself tougher than she'd given him credit for.

'But I guess that's me, just 'cause I couldn't go through with it doesn't mean the cure was wrong for anybody else…' he smiled at her, his voice placating.

'Nice save kid,' she laughed slightly, 'by "anybody else" ya mean me right?' she held up his hand once more, the touch of her skin on his still made her look twice, 'time was kid that holding on to you like this meant ah'd end up bleeding ya dry, before that cure ah was stuck in a cage, a prisoner in ma own skin.'

She took a deep breath, this was the longest conversation she'd ever had about her choice and it was with a relative stranger, a kid she'd met just a couple hours ago, but somehow it all seemed to make sense, 'Ah had nothin' to lose, and everythin' ah ever wanted to gain, there wasn't a choice, not really and yeah it hurt like hell, but ah wouldn't change a damn thing, not even now.'

Marie untangled her hand from his took another deep swig of beer, wiping her mouth with the back of her shirt sleeve, surprised to see her hand shaking, she ground her hand into a fist, 'Ya ever been scared kid?'

He was surprised at her question, she smiled gently, 'ah mean really scared, so much so that ya think you're hearts gonna stop, it hurts to breathe, and your blood pounds through your veins at a hundred miles an hour, so damn loud ya think the whole room should be able to hear it?'

'Ya ever been that sort of scared Charlie?' he could only shake his head, quietly pleased she'd remembered his name, but caught up in her words, she sighs wistfully and he leans towards her slightly eager for more, everything he's heard about Marie doesn't even seem to come close to what he's seen in her tonight.

'Ah thought ah used to be scared like that, long time ago, ah used to have a fear of flies.' She shrugs her shoulders, 'ah just hated the damn things, summer months in the South was just hell for me.' She laughs quietly then, 'it was irrational and stupid, and not even a fear really, give me a spider, a cockroach or any other creepy crawly and ah was a pro,' she laughs once more, 'but flies, fuck it ah just couldn't handle flies but ah thought that was the worse it would get.'

And all of a sudden the words seem to stick in her throat, there's a glint in her eye, its not dangerous, not to Charlie anyhow, if anything its sadness, memory lane has ghosts that seem to swallow her up. She shakes her head, the white bangs of hair fall into her eyes and she doesn't bother pushing them back. They're a curtain passing over her eyes and Charlie can't see anymore.

But he can hear her, and though she spoke softer now, the sadness is still there, 'By the time ah turned fifteen d'ya wanna know what ah was scared of…?' The silence stretches on, 'that the next time ah touched someone they'd die.'

Marie stood up abruptly, 'that was the first time ah knew what being scared really meant, what fear was, at fifteen years old ah knew ma life was over, ah would never to be able to touch someone again, my first kiss was my last.'

She hurled the empty beer bottle into the night air, it smashed somewhere down below, 'and living like that, it wasn't really living at all. Then they said there was a cure, and ah knew what ah had to do, ah could either live with what ah was, spend the rest of ma life afraid or…or ah could take it all back, take back everything that had been ripped from me.'

Charlie turned to face her, he picked up the empty beer bottles, smiling gently at her, she shook her head slightly, 'only it never worked out that way, ah couldn't get it back, couldn't get it the way it used to be…ah couldn't feel it,' for the first time that night he hears her voice break ever so slightly.

She stretched out her arms, 'they wouldn't let me forget…' she gestured towards the Academy, 'and they wouldn't forgive, ah was scared all over again, and they made me feel that way. This little family that takes strangers off the street, that welcomes all mutants wouldn't help me, wouldn't save me.'

And it's the anger that comes off her in waves now, he can see into her eyes now, and they shine with a different sort of light, not sadness or remembrance, she's all but slain the ghosts along that memory lane.

'So ah left and it was the best choice ah ever made, ah killed the fear, ah saved myself, without this damn Academy that spat me out, ah fixed it, ah fixed it the way ah had to…'

Marie takes a deep breath, leaning into Charlie, she whispers maniacally, 'don't trust them kid, and don't ever rely on them, they will _always _let you down.'

She turned to walk back towards the roof door, and walked straight into Logan, she wasn't sure how long he'd been standing there or even how much he'd heard, and she just didn't care. Instead she smiles sweetly and brushes past him, slamming the door as she exits.

Charlie hurries past quickly, barely a glance at the mean looking Logan, built like a house and twice as scary to a fourteen year old kid like Charlie.

Logan has heard only the last line she offered the scared looking kid, thinking she'd been living up to her reputation, and he knows with Marie he'd better reassess that mean streak, half a mile just wasn't long enough.


End file.
